


Ningen or Nekojin?

by TheChichiSlaughterHouse



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: AU, Kemonomimi, Lemon, M/M, Out of Character, POV First Person, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-04-28
Updated: 2007-10-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 02:04:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11244075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChichiSlaughterHouse/pseuds/TheChichiSlaughterHouse
Summary: Kakarott finds a neko Vegeta and takes him in...driving Chichi away...but what will happen to Vegeta? AU. GokuxVegeta. HIATUS





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.))
> 
> Chapter rating: PG-13

Hey, my name’s Kakarott. I’m twenty-two years old and I live in a small house near the mountains with ’Geta. It’s a beautiful place, my house. It may not be very big, but it’s well furnished. It’s a great place to live in the summer, seeing as the walls are not too thick. In the winter, it is rather cold, but we keep warm by the fireplace. The mountain is a wonderful thing to look at out of the window, in winter or summer, the mountain being covered with snow in winter, and flowers and grasses in summer. There is a lake near my home, and it is great to clean yourself or catch fish in, although fish are scarce in winter. In the summer, ’Geta likes to watch the fish and dip his paw in to try and get them. It’s rather sweet.  
  
You may be wondering about ’Geta, so let me explain.  
  
’Geta’s my neko, see? When I met him a few months ago, I took him in. He’s a mute, from what I can tell and I think he’s been brought up his entire life to believe that he’s a cat. I don’t know who would do this to someone, or even why. I’m looking after him, in the hope that one day; he’ll figure out that he’s human like me and everyone else. Although, I’m not too sure that he _is_ human. He actually has a real tail and that’s definitely not a human trait. Every time I see him, I long to pet his tail. It’s a fascination…I mean…I’ve never had a tail…  
  
It’s upsetting sometimes. I mean, I love having him as a pet, but I want to know the _real_ him. The real Vegeta.  
  
A few days after I took him in, my wife left me. Everything had been great between us until I brought him home. I think that maybe she was driven away by his fondness for me and his obvious dislike towards her. He used to come into our room at night and curl up between us, his back to her as he looked at me with his big obsidian eyes sadly. Like he wanted to sleep in my bed with me.  
  
After Chichi left, claiming she was sick and tired of me paying more attention to an insane stranger than her, he seemed to settle in much better, sleeping in his own bed in his room. Sometimes I really miss her, though I can’t just leave ’Geta to fend for himself, not like this. Me and ’Geta get on really well now, even better than before and he isn’t nearly as upset anymore. He’s relaxed and content most of the time now.  
  
There are still times when he’s fussy or moody, but that’s usually at dinnertimes when I won’t let him eat my food as well as his own. He only eats the meat out of what I give him and I worry. He’s rather skinny. I have considered taking him to the doctors, but I fear they will take him away from me and my sacrifice of losing my wife will be for nothing. I never wanted her to go.  
  
Me and ’Geta have a routine in the mornings now. At about eight in the morning, he enters my room and wakes me up by pawing lightly at my face from next to me on my bed. I get up, have a shower, comb my hair and make sure I feed him some food before I prepare my own breakfast. Otherwise, he eats my breakfast while I prepare his.  
  
Sometimes, we watch TV or play outside, and occasionally my friends Trunks and Brolli come for a visit. When Trunks is around, I keep an eye on him. He seems to be too fond of ’Geta and I don’t want him to upset him. ’Geta can defend himself though, because most of the time, Trunks leaves my house covered in cat scratches. I find this strange, because I know that ’Geta doesn’t have claws, but as long as he’s okay, I don’t really care.  
  
After that, we have our lunch and I take a nap on the sofa. When I wake up, I always see him curled up next to the sofa, sleeping peacefully. I pet him on the head and stroke his hair and he wakes up, stretching, then nuzzling my hand affectionately. Then, if I need to, we go out to buy some food.  
  
I take him everywhere with me. For some reason, I can’t bear the thought of him being alone. Every time I had tried to leave, I had turned around to see him watching me with his big beautiful jet eyes, looking upset. I couldn’t bear the abandoned look in his eyes and I ended up taking him with me.  
  
And then there’s Trunks. He could come around while I’m gone and find a way to get ’Geta to relax… I mean, Trunks is my friend, I’ve known him for years…but I don’t think I’d leave him alone with ’Geta. At least, not until ’Geta knows he’s human…until he can show me that he can think for himself and knows what he wants.  
  
I probably should take ’Geta to a mental hospital, like Chichi had wanted me to. But I don’t want to leave him there with people he doesn’t know. I don’t want him to think that I’ve abandoned him. I don’t want him to hate me. That’s why I take care of him.  
  
I should probably go to the shops now, otherwise there won’t be anything to eat for dinner tonight. I get up from the sofa and pet Vegeta on the head, waking him.  
  
“Come on ’Geta. Time to go to shopping.” I croon, stroking his hair softly and watching him yawn, still half asleep. I watch him open his sable orbs and blink a few times, making me smile. He’s so cute when he’s just woken up. “Hey…” I whisper, scratching behind his ear. “You coming with me?”  
  
I always ask him if he wants to go with me, even though I know he always will. He really likes going out with me. I see him nod and he nuzzles my knee and I grin, standing up and putting on my shoes. As I grab my coat, he is sitting at my heels with my wallet in his mouth, looking up at me with his innocent eyes. I take the wallet from his mouth and we walk to the door, leaving the house and locking the door behind us.  
  
I scoop him up into my arms and carry him over the grass to my car, opening the passenger side and sitting him on the seat comfortably, fixing his belt for him to keep him safe. I smile and close the door, going round and climbing in myself. As I attach my own seatbelt and start the car, I wonder why he isn’t afraid of being in the car. Cats are usually terrified of travel.  
  
I shrug. It’s probably not important. I look at him one last time to check if he’s okay and he is playing with a piece of string I had stapled into the roof of the car to entertain him. I smile and drive off, heading to the market to buy some vegetables for myself. I think I’ve ran out of carrots and tonight, I feel like cooking us some tender juicy steaks for dinner. I know he loves to eat steak.  
  
I turn on some music as I drive, winding down my window to allow the fresh air to whip through my blonde hair, a smile on my face as I flicker my gaze over to my neko, watching him knawing on the string. I chuckle softly. I’m going to need a stronger string to entertain him with. His tail fluffs as he pulls at the string harder and I suddenly realise I’ve been watching him for over a minute. I shamefully turn my eyes back to the road, thanking God that I hadn’t crashed or hit anyone and promising to myself that I will pay more attention to the road in the future. Looking at him while I drive is too dangerous.  
  
We get out of the car, me helping Vegeta out of the seatbelt and letting him onto the floor. He sniffs the air and I beckon him to come over to a stall with me. I see him follow me and I look at the wide selection of fruit and vegetables happily, humming softly before picking up a big carrot with a grin. The farmers must be working harder on their crops this summer. The owner of the stall smiles at me happily. This is the only stall I ever go to on the market, because I trust the owners and their wares are reasonably priced, though, by the size of this carrot, I think they are really cheap!  
  
“Hello Kakarott, what are you thinking of buying today?” The attractive young woman asks me, batting her eyelashes, obviously flirting with me. I can’t help but blush a little. I think that she must have a crush on me or something. I smile at her and pick up a few more vegetables.  
  
“Just the usual Maitake…” I reply, putting my vegetables and fruits in carrier bags to make it easier to carry them back to the car. I never flirt back with her though. I know her mother and father would be pleased if I were to marry her, but I don’t think I want another woman in my life just yet. I’m not ready. She continues to smile and calculates the sum of my shopping, while I wait and take an apple from my bag, eating it. She turns to face me again and gives me the price.  
  
“That’s sixteen-ninety-nine yet again, Kakarott.” She says flirtily, leaning over the stall a bit, trying to show me her cleavage as I get the money from my wallet. I swallow and hand over a twenty-pound note, missing the feel of a warm body next to mine in my bed at night. I miss the conversation and fun things Chichi and I used to do. Out of loneliness, I open my mouth and instead of saying thank you as she hands me my change, like I intended, I say something entirely different and it shocks me.  
  
“Would you like to go on a date with me sometime, Maitake?” I ask, going red once I realise what I have just put myself into. Her eyes sparkle at me and she smiles, looking overjoyed.  
  
“Of course I will!” She says, walking from the other side of the stall to hug me, though the shopping in my hands prevents me from hugging her back or pushing her away. I cannot just say that it was a mistake now. “When? What time?” She asks, pulling away from me, her eagerness making me feel guilty. Now I have to go on a date with her, or never shop here again.  
  
“How about tonight? At seven?” I ask, wanting to get this over and done with. It’s one now, so I will have plenty of time to figure out a way to tell her I’m not really interested without sounding harsh or nasty towards her. She’s really a nice girl, even if she tries too hard to get male attention.  
  
“Sounds great.” She says, smiling. I swallow nervously.  
  
“Y-Yeah…great…” I say shakily, then realise I have to tell her where we will meet, which is simple enough, I know where her family live. “I’ll pick you up at your house, okay?” She agrees and goes back to serving the customers as I take a deep breath, sighing. I guess I won’t be cooking steak for me and ’Geta tonight. I pause. Where is ’Geta? My eyes widen as I suddenly get afraid, searching frantically for him. I call his name, I ask passers-by if they have seen him, but all I get are dirty looks. I look in the bin in my desperation but I cannot find him anywhere. I search the market for three hours, then give up, almost sobbing.  
  
I go to the closest person’s house I know, hoping Vegeta will have gone there, because he knows the way. I knock on Brolli's door and hang my head sadly as I wait for him to answer. I am worried. As I wait, I can no longer hold in my tears and I cry, my body shaking with my sobs and worry about what could have happened to Vegeta. Suddenly, the door is opened and Brolli is there, shocked at my sudden mental breakdown on his doorstep. He ushers me inside and gives me tissues, sitting me on his floor as he goes to make me some camomile tea.  
  
I sniffle sadly and hug myself, feeling afraid, confused and upset, there are so many different emotions running through me. Why did he go? Where did he go? Does he hate me? When did he go? Did someone take him away? I bite my lip harshly. What would they be doing with him?? Would they hurt him?? Would they… My breath catches in my throat. What if someone’s raping him??? I can’t breathe. My mind is racing with images of ’Geta crying in pain, unable to stop someone as they forcefully part his legs, rip his pants off…  
  
I growl like an animal. If someone has hurt him in that way, I’ll kill them! How dare they??? I roll around on the floor, not knowing what else to do and I hear Brolli talking.  
  
“How about we make posters?” He suggests, offering me paper and a pencil. I take them gratefully and he puts the cup of tea next to me. In my haste, I knock it over and the scalding liquid burns my feet, but I do not care. I even draw a small sketch of ‘Geta, hoping that my drawing is good enough for people to recognise. Brolli looks through it for me as more tears slip down my cheeks, then places it on the side and sits close to me, trying to calm me down. I grab his shirt and sob into it.  
  
“O-Oh Brolli…s-someone could have him right now!” I say, my head clouded with worry. He rubs my back comfortingly and I sob. “T-They could be h-hurting him…o-or raping him!” I cry, grabbing him tighter. He makes soothing noises and pulls me into a hug. He’s always been like a father to me, even though we are the same age.  
  
“I’m sure that ’Geta’s fine and that you’re just assuming the worst…” He says soothingly, still rubbing my back as I cling onto him. I can’t help myself…I’m just so worried about him…he could be lying somewhere, hurt and he might not be able to find how to get home…I can’t bear the thought.  
  
There is a knock at the front door and I know I have to let go of Brolli so he may answer it, and I let go reluctantly, hugging myself around the middle as he gets up to go and see who it is. I look at the clock and bite my lip. It’s five o’clock…’Geta’s been missing for hours. I remember I have a date with that girl, but I don’t care. ’Geta is more important to me than her. I look at the floor sadly, a tear dripping onto the carpet, which is now stained with tea. I feel awful. I’ll have to buy Brolli a new carpet…  
  
Someone enters the room and I look at their feet, seeing a pair of boots like Trunks’ ones. I sigh sadly and hug myself tighter, still wondering what happened to my ’Geta and where he could possibly be.  
  
“Kakarott? I think I have something of yours…” Trunks tells me, though I’m still looking at the floor sadly. Maybe he has some money for me that he owes me. “Well…it’s more of a someone…” He says louder, obviously wanting my attention. I look up and I gasp at who is in his arms.  
  
“VEGETA!!!” I cry, running over and scooping him out of Trunks’ arms, cradling him to me. It barely even registered that Trunks was covered in cat scratches and bites. Trunks puts his hand on my shoulder.  
  
“I found him on my kitchen table. He was eating the salmon I had bought from the market for my dinner.” He says with a small huff. “I’ve spent the last hour trying to get him down here, seeing as I knew this is where you would go.” I hug Vegeta tightly and I look at Trunks, grateful.  
  
“Thank you…” I whisper, feeling ’Geta wriggling a little in my arms. Trunks just smiles at me and leaves, not even asking for the money back for the salmon my naughty little cat ate. I look at ’Geta and I feel him put his hands on my face. My heart leaps with relief. “Don’t you ever go wandering off on me again!” I scold, hugging him closer. Brolli smiles at me and suddenly, I feel like an idiot for before. “Ummm…I…” I begin, but Brolli cuts me off with a wave of his hand.  
  
“Don’t worry about it, I was worried too.” I walk over and hug him, before picking up my shopping and leaving his house, him waving at me and ’Geta as I fasten him back into the passenger seat and drive home, my eyes flickering over to him as he sits silently, looking confused. I bite my lip. This isn’t his usual behaviour… Eventually, I pull up at our house, opening the door and getting ’Geta and the shopping out, before entering the house. I look at the clock again. It’s half five now. Maybe I’ll have enough time to cook ’Geta some food before I go…  
  
I go into my room and discard my old faded jeans, picking new dark ones and I pull the t-shirt off my head. I look for a decent button-up, and when I find a long-sleeved orange one, I grin. I love orange. I find that orange and navy look best on me. I close the door to my wardrobe and turn to see ’Geta sitting next to my bedroom door, watching me with his chocolate-brown eyes. I smile at him, placing my shirt on the bed, before kneeling down and coaxing him over. He sits in front of me and I pet him on the head, still smiling at him. He purrs softly, the only way I can tell is the rumbling of his chest, he never makes any noise. Not once.  
  
“Hey…I’m going out on a date tonight…” I tell him, stroking down his back, but stopping before I touch his ass. I repeat the motion repeatedly and I can feel his purr dwindle slightly. “I’m going with that girl from the market…” I say, getting up and undressing. I can almost feel his eyes on me, curious, questioning. I sigh. “You’ll have to stay here while I’m out. I’ll cook for you.” I pull on my new jeans and slip the shirt around my shoulders, looking for some socks. When I look back to where he is, I just see an empty space. I button up my shirt and pull on my socks and shoes before heading into the kitchen to cook him some steak. He might as well have a nice meal.  
  
As I begin to prep the vegetables, I can feel him winding around my legs, wanting attention. I’m glad he isn’t a real cat, or my jeans would get fluffy. I look down at him to see ketchup smeared over his arms and legs and all over his clothes. I sigh. He needs a wash and I need new jeans again. I head back into the bedroom and change my jeans, sighing at the pile of clothes in the corner. I really need to do the washing soon.  
  
When I arrive back into the kitchen, I see that all the vegetables I had been chopping were on the floor and his head was in the carrier bag with the meat in it. I gasp and run over, pulling him away from the bags with a frown. He knows not to jump on the side where I’m prepping dinner! And he’s usually afraid of carrier bags… I give him a stern look and take him outside to the lake, gently stripping him of the clothes I’d put him in this morning and nudge him, motioning towards the lake.  
  
He blinks, then turns and runs in the opposite direction, my eyes widening. Where is he going?? I get up and run after him, noticing how muddy the grass is. Eventually, I catch up to him and grab his leg, but he kicks at me, trying to make me let go. I don’t, and he pulls forward with such force that I slip and land on top of him, my face in the mud with his body squirming under mine. I pull my face out of the dirt and pick him up around his waist, frowning at the state of my clothes. I look awful.  
  
I’m getting annoyed now. He never acts like this!! What the hell has gotten into him?? I stomp back to the lake and I drop him in, with none of my usual kindness, and I feel nasty when he breaks the surface, shivering and looking at me as if I have betrayed him. I sigh and kneel down, reaching out to clean him, and he moves away, looking at me haughtily, pouting. I clean my face and hands, sighing sadly before getting up, leaving him to clean himself as I go to change again. I select a short-sleeved navy button-up shirt and black jeans, dressing hurriedly. If I don’t leave soon, I’m going to be late!  
  
I leave my room and bump into a sopping wet ’Geta. He looks up at me sadly and I sigh again as I get a big fluffy towel and bundle him in it, drying his arms and legs, him looking at me sadly all the while, as if he were sorry. I look at the time again. It’s half six. If I don’t leave in five minutes, I’ll be late. I sigh. There isn’t enough time to cook dinner for ’Geta now!! ’Geta just looks up at me, his sad eyes making me confused as I dry off his chest and abdomen. Why is he so upset? I dry his thighs, avoiding a certain area, when he wriggles and I am alarmed to feel myself rub the one place I was trying not to. I get embarrassed as I see the expression on his face and feel the purr rumbling through him again, realising I hadn’t stopped rubbing yet. I cough and quickly dry off the rest of him, not touching his tail at all, rubbing the towel through his hair and nudging him off my lap.  
  
He lands gracefully on his hands and knees and looks up at me with a pout, fluffing his tail and flicking the water at me. I frown at him and stand up, stepping over him. For some reason, it seems like he’s trying to make me late on purpose. As I walk to his room to find him some clothes – because now he will have to come with me – he starts rubbing around my legs and nuzzling my ankles. I swear he is trying to trip me up now. I walk into his room and pick him up around his waist, putting him on his bed sternly.  
  
“Stay here.” I instruct him, looking through his clothes for something nice for him to wear. I sigh, looking through the endless amount of shorts and tank tops that I have bought for him and I wonder why I never bought him any special clothes. In the end, I pick some black Lycra shorts and a brown vest, turning to face him to see him lying spread out on the bed. I look away in embarrassment and look for some underwear for him. When I find some, I turn around and take a deep breath, lifting his hips and gently sliding on the briefs I had chosen, making sure his tail was threaded through the hole gently. He looks up at me curiously, a little red across his cheeks, or maybe that is my imagination.  
  
I finish dressing him and put on his socks and boots, smiling kindly at him. He does think he’s a cat after all…it’s not like he knows any better. I scoop him up into my arms again and carry him into the living room, picking up my wallet and leaving the house, locking the door. I put him in the backseat, the upset look he gives me confusing me still, but I get into my side and drive off, heading to Maitake’s house, looking into the rear-view mirror to see ’Geta lying down, his head on the seat as his tail droops. I frown.  
  
We arrive at her house at twenty past seven and I wince. Hopefully, she won’t be too mad at me about this. I leave ’Geta in the car as I go to knock on her door and I can almost feel his sadness as I walk up her pathway and knock. I don’t know what’s wrong with him today. Soon, she answers the door in a tight-fitting black dress that is low on her cleavage and high on her legs, half way up her thighs. She smiles at me, her lips covered in a chocolate-brown lipstick. I smile back nervously, her look and body language telling me that she intends to have sex tonight.  
  
“H-Hi Maitake…are you ready?” I ask, swallowing a lump in my throat. She smiles wider, more playfully and steps back into the house, grabbing a small handbag, before stepping out of the house and looping her arm in mine, nodding. I swallow again and lead her to my car, noticing her surprise at seeing ’Geta in the backseat.  
  
“You’re bringing a guy on our date?” She asks me, looking at me funnily. I don’t know how to respond, so I just open the passenger seat, moving the string out of her way and get in my side, belting myself in safely. She just watches me and when I raise an eyebrow at her for staring, she buckles up quickly too, thinking that is why I raised my eyebrow at her. Mentally, I sigh. This date is definitely not going to go well. It’s barely been five minutes, and I’m already regretting this.  
  
“I couldn’t leave him at home and no one else could look after him…” I tried to explain, but it truly doesn’t matter. She doesn’t care. I can tell by the way she is looking at ’Geta that she thinks he’s a freak. That angers me. She shouldn’t judge him at all! I try not to growl angrily as I drive us to a nice restaurant, a fancy one I’ve wanted to go to for ages. I’ve been told that the food and service is great. As we get out of the car, I notice that ’Geta is glaring at her. I frown. Something is definitely wrong with him. I pick him up into my arms and she looks at me, her expression one of confusion and distaste. I think she’s beginning to regret this date too.  
  
We walk in, and with an odd look from the waitress; we are seated at a table for three, a round table so we are all next to each other. We are given the menus and a glass of water and then the waitress leaves us to our own devices. I look through the menu carefully, trying to see if I can find something good for ’Geta to eat.  
  
Chicken Caesar Salad with olives. No, he’d just waste the salad…  
  
Whole shoulder of lamb, served with a choice of chips, baby potatoes or jacket potatoes and peas. I frown. That’d be too much for him to eat.  
  
Penne pomodoro with spicy arrabiata sauce and basil. Nope, no meat.  
  
I frown and skim the menu carefully, trying to find something to sate Vegeta's appetite, but there isn’t really much he likes. Eventually, I find ‘Atlantic Cod with a choice of chips, baby potatoes or jacket potatoes’ and I almost chuckle. What a poncy way of saying ‘fish and chips’. I smile and look up from the menu, seeing Maitake and ’Geta giving each other sour looks. I frown again. I can forgive ’Geta for looking at her that way, but I can’t forgive her. She knows what she’s doing. I cough loudly and both of their attentions switch to me, her giving me a fake smile and ’Geta looking at me pleadingly with a small pout. I smile nervously at them and I’m glad when a waitress comes over.  
  
“Ready to order yet, sirs and madam?” She asks in a posh voice, making me smile.  
  
“I am.” I say, and look at Maitake, who smiles at the waitress and begins her order.  
  
“I’d like the Chicken Caesar Salad and some oysters please.” I frown mentally. Oysters are expensive! I’m not made of money! My mental frown gets deeper as I realise they’re also a type of aphrodisiac. Oh yeah, she definitely wants sex tonight. The waitress turns to ’Geta and smiles, waiting for his order. I cough, and she looks at me with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“He’s mute.” I explain, nervous. “And he lets me order for him.” She looks back at ’Geta, who just blinks at her, then back to me.  
  
“Okay then sir, what will you and your friend be having?” I’m tempted to say ‘Gimme the ass-steak n chips and get ’im the cod’, but I resist, not wanting a sour look from the waitress. The atmosphere on this table is already thick.  
  
“He’ll have the Atlantic Cod with chips and I’ll have the 10oz Rump Steak. Medium rare, please.” I say, handing back the menu. She takes it from me and smiles.  
  
“Great choice, sir. What drinks would you like?” I nervously look over to Maitake.  
  
“A glass of dry white wine please. Pinot Grigio, if you have any.” The waitress writes it down and turns to me.  
  
“I’ll have some Sauvignon rouge, and my friend’ll have some water…in a bowl if you can…” I ask, feeling like an idiot. But the waitress just smiles at me and goes to get our food and drinks. The silence is haunting, and I cannot stand it. “So…Maitake…how long have you been working on the stall?” I ask, not really interested, but needing some communication between us except awkward smiles. She smiles warmly and begins to talk about her life as I nod and pretend I am listening to her and I notice out of the corner of my eye that ’Geta is really unimpressed with me. I don’t know why he’s so mad.  
  
Soon, our drinks arrive and I take mine gratefully, sipping it like I need it to survive. She takes a sip of her wine, then puts it down, leaning over the table to talk to me, her head on her hands.  
  
“So Kakarott? Where do you work?” She asks me, looking at me seductively, making me nervous. I haven’t _got_ a job. At the moment, I’m living off my father’s money, that I received after his funeral four years ago.   
  
My father used to own a large corporation, Capsule Corp, and I inherited it, but I didn’t want to work there, I wanted to spend more time with my wife, so I gave it to Bulma, one of my oldest friends. I don’t see much of her anymore, but I’m glad I gave her the company. Her inventions have made my father’s old company the best-known company ever. If my dad had been alive today, I’m sure he’d be proud that I made such an important business deal and did the best thing I could with his company. I hear Bulma and her family are billionaires now and I think she keeps putting money into my account. I nervously realise I haven’t answered her and as I open my mouth to talk to her, she gasps, moving off of the table and looking at the front of her dress in horror.  
  
It seems she’s spilt wine on herself.  
  
“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing Vegeta’s tail sway back to him and wave through the air happily, an evil little smirk on his face. He did it? She looks at me in embarrassment and stands up, grabbing her handbag. I look at her with wide eyes. Is she leaving?  
  
“I-I’ll be back in a minute…” She says and runs off to the bathroom to clean herself up. I look over at ’Geta disappointedly. He can’t have done it, can he? Did he? I frown. I’d ask him, but I doubt I’d get an answer. I’m not sure I want to accuse him of anything like that anyway. He’s innocent…isn’t he? I realise I’m staring when he looks back at me, his sad eyes telling me everything I need to know. He’s upset about this date, but he surely isn’t tampering with it. I know him too well to accuse him of such a nasty thing. I pet him between his ears reassuringly and he purrs, looking at me innocently, his tail waving behind him happily. Suddenly, Maitake is back at the table and I see his tail droop a little, saddened.  
  
“Everything okay now?” I ask, smiling at her, trying to be kind. She smiles back, forcing it.  
  
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” We end up talking for five minutes about our favourite foods, her obviously forgetting about the job question, and then the waitress arrives with our food. I request another glass of wine for my date and she smiles, going to get one. I dig into my food greedily, cutting through the bloody steak and almost sighing at the taste as I take my first piece. It’s delicious. The perfect steak.  
  
I look over to ’Geta to see him eating his fish with grace, even for a cat. I look back at Maitake and see she is thoroughly enjoying her salad, or at least she gives off the impression that she is. We chat a little over the food and I notice Vegeta pout, annoyed that I’m ignoring him. I’m not trying to, but I have to so that Maitake doesn’t think I’m a jerk. I’d hate to be thought of like that. One of her oysters rolls towards ’Geta and I frown as he opens it and eats it, knocking the shell onto the floor to hide the evidence. I didn’t think he liked those…  
  
Soon enough, the meal is over and I pay for it with my card. I don’t even look at the bill, afraid to see how much this one misunderstanding has cost me, and, as Maitake gets to her feet, her face flushed red from the wine, I get worried, wondering what else this night may cost. I help ’Geta into my arms and she loops her arm with mine, her hand brushing along ’Geta’s tail. Then all hell breaks loose as Vegeta twists in my arms and scratches her across the face angrily, jumping on her and biting her.  
  
She screams and I pull him away, feeling him panting and a growl rumbling through him as he tries to break free from my arms and attack her again. I don’t understand! He’s never been this violent before!  
  
“’Geta! What the hell is wrong with you??” I shout, holding him tightly, aware the entire restaurant is gawping at us in shock. I look at Maitake’s face worriedly, after I grab Vegeta’s hands and hold them together, preventing further attacks. There’s a deep slash in her cheek, blood dribbling off her chin and onto the abused dress, making me wince. This night has gone very badly. “M-Maitake…I’m so sorry!” I say, holding Vegeta tightly. She sobs softly, tears rolling down her cheeks as she begs me to just take her home.  
  
When we arrive back at her house, after me trying to apologise the whole way, she just gets out of the car and slams the door, running into her house. I don’t even get a thank you for the food. I look in my rear-view window to see ’Geta watching her, his tail swishing through the air violently. I am suddenly glad I’ve never touched his tail, if he reacts that way to people touching it, then I’ll never touch it. The scratches looked very deep. I look back at the road and drive home, feeling very sleepy. A few hours of television and I’m heading off to bed.  
  
We arrive home and I get out of my car, letting ’Geta out of the backseat and carrying him to the front door. We enter our home and I put him down, heading straight for the settee. I am too tired to do anything else, but I am too awake to attempt sleep. I sit down and turn on sky one, to find that Twister has just started and I am in time to watch it. Vaguely, I see ’Geta staring at me from the doorway, but I am not in the mood to talk to him tonight. And after the first twenty minutes, I am too absorbed in the film to notice anything else.  
  
When the film ends, I turn off the TV and get up, stretching and yawning, hearing some of the bones in my back click. It's been a long night and I need rest. All this excitement has been too much for me, really. I walk through the house to my room, frowning. I haven't seen 'Geta since we got home… I shrug. He probably went to bed. It has been a tiring day for him too.  
  
I walk into my bedroom and snuggle into the sheets, comfortably warm in the cool summer night. I close my eyes and lie on my side, but I can't sleep. I'm too worked up from what happened earlier with Maitake. I still can't believe what happened. Maybe I should've gone in with her and seen if she was okay…  
  
My mind runs around in circles for hours on the same thing, maybe I should have helped her or asked forgiveness, but it stops when I hear my bedroom door opening. I open my eyes a bit and I can see ’Geta walking across my floor on his hands and knees, stark naked. I almost gasp in shock, but I hold it in as he jumps on my bed and cuddles up to my side. I tense. What is he doing?  
  
Suddenly, I hear a scratchy noise and ’Geta is pawing at my face, looking at me with his beautiful eyes pleadingly. My eyes widen when I realise what is going on. He’s trying to talk to me…  
  
“K-Kaka…rott…” Vegeta whispers, nuzzling my face, trying to wake me. I wonder how many times he has done this without me waking up. This feels strange and I open my eyes, looking at him, my breath ragged. He leans down and licks along my bottom lip and I freeze, unsure of what to do. I don’t understand what he’s doing…he’s never done this before…  
  
I move his head away from mine and sit up, looking at him, confused as to why he’s in here. What does he want? He crawls onto my lap and straddles my hips, leaning forward, his eyes locked with mine. But suddenly, he wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me into a deep kiss, pressing against me. It is with instinct that I wrap my arms around his waist, and pull him closer to me, despite the strangeness of the situation. I know he thinks that he is a cat…I know he still does…but he’s chosen me…he wants me…  
  
A very childish part of me stands up and laughs, saying ‘In your face, Trunks! In your face!’ before I realise what I am doing, and I pull back, looking at ’Geta in shock. I don’t know where he learned to kiss like that… I shake my head. It doesn’t matter how well he’s just kissed me, doesn’t matter where he learned it. What matters is if he knows what he’s doing.  
  
“V-Vegeta…?” I pant, shaking slightly from confusion and excitement. The constant heat and pressure from his body so close to me has made me aroused, and I can’t help but think I am sick. He doesn’t know what he’s doing! I shouldn’t take advantage of him, no matter how cold and lonely it is in my bed at night, no matter how hard and aching I am. I shudder with want and I pull the covers from my body, Vegeta’s arms still linked around my neck, leaving me no option but to hold him up by his bum as I stand up, cradling him to me, and walk to his room, fully intent on putting him to bed and closing the door so he can’t get out.  
  
I freeze in my motions when I feel his erection rub against my chest, his tongue lapping at my neck, his tail coil my wrist happily as he purred for all he was worth. I swallow nervously, hearing him sigh and nuzzle my neck affectionately. This is the second time today that my intentions have been changed. I turn back around and go into my room, laying him on my bed and looking at him reverently, if not hungrily. I know I am highly aroused, I know I want him now, so my gaze must be predatory, but from the shy aroused look on his face, he doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he parts his legs and purrs, his hands grabbing my pillow as he arches up, practically begging me to touch him.  
  
I groan and climb onto the bed, clad in only my boxers as I lean down and kiss him fiercely, passionately, showing him just how much I want him. I can’t stop my hands as they roam slowly over his skin, his gasps and pants into my mouth making me shiver at his responsiveness to my touch. My tongue tangles with his, curling and flicking it as his hands slowly let go of my pillow, and timidly touch my overheated skin, grabbing my back unsurely. I tremble and pull away from his mouth, searching his eyes. I don’t think I can do this.  
  
He lies there, panting and looking up at me shyly, a deep red tint across his face as my hands stroke the curve of his hips. I can tell we’re both very nervous, but I think it may be from a lack of experience, for the both of us. I don’t think he’s ever had sex, and I know for certain that I have never been intimate with a man. We both pant, though my experience with passionate kissing helps me to even out my breaths, whereas, he is panting heavily, shaking and looking up at me expectantly, as if he wants me to lead us through this. I am afraid of the amount of trust me has put in me, afraid that I could hurt him. I know of ways that two men can be intimate with each other, but I am still unsure of how to do this.  
  
I’m not sure I’ll be able to think of myself in the same way if I do this.  
  
“Kakarott…” Vegeta whispers, his eyes half-lidded, his face flushed as he writhes beneath me. I shiver at his voice; it’s so husky and needy…I’ve never heard it before… “P-Please…” He gasps, and it sends shivers running through me. I bite my lip and move off of him, trying to give myself enough space and time to think through this before I do anything. I hear him whimper in loss and I can’t help myself when I lean over him and kiss him again, trembling as his tail glides up my back, the fur making me feel sensitive. He paws at me needily, his tail finally finding a place to settle as it coils the top of my thigh, under my boxers. I pull back again, ashamed at my lack of control. I shouldn’t do this; he’s not in his right mind.  
  
“N-No…” I gasp, pulling away from him completely, pulling his tail from my thigh carefully and letting go of it. I sit on my knees, looking over at his saddened face, the desperate, needy air still around him like an aura. He sits up, looking at me with wide eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks and I can feel his heart breaking. “Vegeta…I…you…you aren’t in your right mind…y-you think you’re a cat…I-I can’t…” I try to explain, but he doesn’t listen, crawling closer to me, whispering my name and ‘please’, begging me. “V-Vegeta…stop it!” I demand, moving off of my bed and looking at him nervously. “S-Stop or I’ll take you to the mental hospital!” I warn, my throat closing up as I say those words. I’m not bluffing. If I have to take him there to stop myself from eventually giving in to him, then I will. I’d rather visit him in a safe environment than end up taking away his innocence when he hasn’t a clue of what he’s doing.  
  
For a moment, he just stares blankly at me, then tears fill his eyes and he stops, looking mournfully at me, covering his hardness with his tail protectively. I bite my lip, unsure of what to say, but the need to speak is taken from me as he gets off my bed and runs out of my room, tears streaming down his face. I watch him go, open-mouthed. He…ran…like a human… I hear his door slam behind him and I feel awful. What was I meant to do? Was I supposed to get rid of his innocence?? I know that’s what we both wanted…but…it wasn’t the right thing to do…  
  
…Was it?  
  
I can’t think. I don’t understand what’s going on… I sigh, and I hope that everything will be better in the morning. I lie down and close my eyes, pulling my covers over me, trying to forget my erection. But it is almost impossible and I lie on my back, looking at the ceiling, the cold sheets brushing over my erection not helping me in the slightest. In fact, the sheets are making it worse, making me think that if I hadn’t said no, I could have something very warm and very pleasant around me, instead of the cold and unpleasant feeling of an unsatisfied erection. I sigh again and my eyes begin to close…  
  
-BANG BANG BANG!-  
  
My eyes snap open at a loud banging noise coming from my front door and I push my covers off myself, running a hand through my hair as I pad to the front door, wondering what time it is. I unlock the door and open it to find Brolli and Trunks waiting impatiently for me. I blink. They don’t usually come until half ten…  
  
“Hey guys…what’s up?” I half-yawn, half-mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. They just look at me strangely and I step back, allowing them into my house. “Aren’t you guys a little early?” I ask, still unaware of the time, but I know I would be up by ten-thirty…’Geta would wake me at eight and- wait! Where’s ’Geta?  
  
“We’ve been waiting outside for half an hour!” Trunks complains, looking annoyed. I frown. Half an hour? That would mean it’s eleven in the morning and—My eyes widen as I remember last night and I give them no further attention, running towards ’Geta’s room and trying to open the door, only to find that it is locked. Fear grips my heart and I hammer on the door like a madman. Trunks and Brolli run over to me, trying to ask me what is wrong, but I ignore them, pulling on the door handle.  
  
“’Geta?? ’Geta, open up!” I beg, hitting the door harder, but getting no response. Tears fill my eyes and I bang harder, feeling lost. “I-I didn’t mean it ’Geta!” I sob, pulling on the door frantically. Trunks and Brolli grab me and pull me away from the door, dragging me to the settee, forcing me to sit on it while Trunks tries to make me a drink to calm me down and Brolli finds me a blanket, pulling it over me and sitting next to me on the settee, looking worried. Trunks comes back a moment later with a cup of strong tea and he sits on the other side of the settee, both watching me nervously, looking at each other, trying to think of something to say. I clutch the drink in my hands, my whole body shaking with worry and regret. He locked me out…he didn’t answer…my eyes widen as they dart to his door.  
  
He could’ve killed himself!  
  
The cup slips from my hands and lands on the floor, the brownish liquid sinking into my carpet, but I don’t care, my body trembling as I stare at the door with wide eyes, forgetting to breathe. Brolli’s eyes widen and I hear him talking to me, worried, but I can’t hear what he is saying…it’s all a blur… I gasp when my head is forced between my legs, and I can hear their worried voices, my eyes scrunching shut, what’s going on?? After a short while…I finally hear words.  
  
“Oh god, he looked like he was going to faint! I don’t know what’s wrong!” Brolli says, his hand squeezing my shoulder comfortingly as he talks to Trunks. I bite my lip. They’re both really worried about me…  
  
“I don’t know either, but from his earlier babbling, I’m sure it has something to do with Vegeta…maybe I should check or something…” Trunks suggests, shifting on his seat. I slowly sit up and look between them both, before looking at the floor sadly. I’m going to have to tell them about last night…I know I am…but I’m so ashamed… “Kakarott? Man, you okay?” Trunks asks, trying to look at my face. I look up and see both of them looking at me, suddenly, I am intimidated, not that they are intimidating, but that there are two of them and one of me and I have to tell them this, I am afraid they will be disgusted with me.  
  
“Y-Yeah…I-I’m fine…” I lie, closing my eyes and sighing sadly. But they know me too well to fall for that, they can see through my rather weak charade. They know something’s wrong, and if I know them as well as I feel I do, they won’t leave until I tell them what’s going on. I don’t think I have been this despondent since my father died. I don’t need to be a mind reader to know what they will say next, it’s rather simple, I feel Trunks will say ‘Don’t bullshit us, Kakarott, we can tell something’s wrong!’ and Brolli will say comforting things and wait for me to tell him on my own, not pressuring me, while Trunks tries to force it out of me.  
  
“Kakarott…you know you can tell us anything…” Brolli begins softly, trying to reassure me.  
  
“Look Kakarott, it’s freakin’ obvious something’s wrong! The way you were clawing at that door yelling!” Trunks says, shaking me. Okay, so I was wrong. I’m glad I don’t predict things for money. I sigh softly as I hear more comforting words and more demands to tell what’s going on. Trunks doesn’t realise how unhelpful that is right about now. My heart feels heavy and as I look between the two of them, I wonder whether only one, or both will be disgusted and leave. Though I don’t see how they won’t be. I close my eyes sadly and take a deep breath.  
  
“I-I’ll tell you…” I whisper, not looking at them, afraid to see their reaction. I decide to start from the beginning, that way; I can delay telling them what happened for a little while. “R-Remember yesterday when ’Geta disappeared?” I see them nod out of the corner of my eyes. “W-Well…I-I made a date with Maitake…the girl from the market…” Trunks stares at me.  
  
“Maitake??” It is obvious he is shocked. “She’s only sixteen, isn’t she??” He asks in amazement and I nod. He gives me a sour look. “You didn’t…” He pauses. “…did you?” I turn and stare at him in shock, then shake my head madly.  
  
“N-No! Of course not!” I scowl, giving him a dirty look. “I’m too old for her! I just…I wanted company…” I look back at the floor again, not paying attention to them. It’s easier to imagine they aren’t there. “So…I lost ’Geta…and then Trunks brought him back…a-and we went home…” I can tell that they’re watching me closely and listening as intently as they can. I know I’m being quiet, but I can’t help it. “I-I got ready…and tried to prepare food…but ’Geta got in the way and-” I tell them about what happened before the date and through it, seeing the wide-eyed looks on their faces, but they don’t speak, not wanting to interrupt me. “We go home and I go and watch Twister on the TV. I don’t know what ’Geta was doing…but after the film, I went to bed, feeling bad about what happened…”  
  
I trail off. I can’t say any more. Images and sensations of what it was like with ‘Geta are running through my head. The way he gasped…and said my name…and purred… The way he arched up from a small touch to his chest… I feel my face heating and my pants becoming tight and I pull the blanket firmly around me, covering my lap. I don’t want them to see how aroused I am getting. I don’t want to tell them any more, I just want to go back to bed, I want them to go away. I want them to leave me alone so I can feel bad in peace. But…most of all…  
  
I want ’Geta.  
  
“And then…?” Brolli asks, leaning forward to look me in the eyes. “I can tell that it isn’t just about that girl, Kakarott. It’s about ’Geta…please, tell us. We can’t help unless you do…” I look to Trunks and he smiles at me, not saying a word, but I can tell that they’re trying to help. I bite my lip.  
  
“S-So I was lying in bed…thinking about what happened. And then the door opened and ’Geta came in…” I pause and swallow. “Naked and he climbed onto my bed.” Trunks is staring at me enviously, and that childish part of me pulls a tongue at him and laughs ‘Nyah nyah!’. I squash that part of me and I shake a little, knowing I have to continue. “A-And he…he nuzzled me…and…said my name…” I know that right now, they either don’t believe me, or they’re astounded that he can actually talk, but I continue on anyway. If they don’t believe me, fine. They don’t have to. “A-And when I sat up…he kissed me…a-and I kissed him back…I-I don’t now what came over me, I just did it and then, when I realised, I pulled away…” I bite my lip again, and I look between them nervously, seeing their shocked expressions. But this time, they don’t prompt me. They are too shocked to, so I decide to tell them the rest. But I can’t do it with them being so close and I stand up, walking away from the settee, just walking forward a few steps so I can’t see them.  
  
“K-Kakarott??” Trunks gasps, snapping out of it. “Where are you going??” I ignore his question and I carry on, not wanting to forget what happened.  
  
“I tried to take him back to his room, b-but I couldn’t…he just sounded so happy…and I…well…I was…” I pause, knowing that they’ll understand what I mean. “So…I laid him back on the bed…and I kissed and touched him…before forcing myself to stop. I-I mean…he thinks he’s a cat…a-and it’s wrong…right?” I ask, turning around and looking at them, hoping for support. I don’t get any. But I don’t get any sour looks either.  
  
“What did you _do_ , Kakarott?” Trunks asks, looking at me with his wide blue eyes. I think Brolli's just listening for now and absorbing all the information before he says anything. I think he’s trying to figure out a solution, whereas, Trunks just wants details of what happened.  
  
“I-I moved away…and I told him to stop…a few times…but he didn’t…” I pause again, worried. Should I tell them what I threatened? They are both looking at me expectantly. “S-So…I threatened to take him to the mental hospital if he didn’t…and he ran from my room…” I look at the floor in disgust. I can’t believe I threatened him with that. Trunks is staring at me, his eyes wide. I think he’s disappointed with me…I don’t think he ever expected me to say that to anyone…least of all to ’Geta…  
  
Brolli just looks at me calmly, then looks over at ’Geta’s locked door, then back at me. He understands why I said what I said…I think he would’ve done the same thing…but I know Trunks wouldn’t…I know he’d have had sex with ’Geta, if ’Geta would let him. I swallow, nervous, then look over at the door sadly. I want him to come out. I want to tell him I’m sorry…  
  
“Kakarott…” Brolli says, getting up from the settee and putting his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. “There’s nothing you can really do…all you can do is wait for him to come out…nothing more…” I nod, looking at the floor. I know there’s nothing I can do…I just…I want him to come out now…I want to hold him and beg for his forgiveness. I just want him to be happy. “Come on, Trunks. We should leave. He won’t come out if we’re here.” Brolli turns to Trunks and Trunks gets off the settee, nodding.  
  
“We’ll come visit you tomorrow…see if there’s any change…” I nod silently and watch them leave. I’m not used to being alone. I sit on the floor and poke the stain on the carpet, not knowing what else to do. I miss ’Geta, and he hasn’t even gone anywhere. I look over to his door longingly and sigh. He’s not going to come out today, I know that much. Then I pause, looking at the keyhole, my body trembling. Maybe I can look through and see him!  
  
I scramble to my feet and hurry over, sitting down and peering in, through the hole, but all I see is darkness. I search the room frantically, and I can see his silhouette moving around. My eyes widen. He’s walking on his feet! I blush a little, gasping as I realise he is still naked, my face heating as I watch him walk up to the door, and then my vision is blocked as he covers the keyhole with something. I move away from the door in despair. He knew I was there, and he covered it up…he must hate me…  
  
 _I_ hate me.  
  
I walk over to the settee and I sit down on it sadly, my head in my hands as I think over what I have done. My one companion…my only close friend…I’ve upset him…I threatened him… I sigh sadly and try not to cry. He hates me. I don’t deserve him. I never deserved him…not when I let my wife leave me…not when I took him on the date with Maitake…not when…I kissed him…  
  
My eyes water up with tears and I tremble, falling deeper and deeper into my self-hate. I mean, who am I kidding? There’s no way in hell that he’s ever going to forgive me for this! I broke his heart!! I don’t deserve anyone or anything! I should kill myself! I run to the kitchen and grab a knife, bringing it to my wrist, but I stop, trembling and I drop it onto the floor with a loud clatter. I-I can’t do it…  
  
I grab my head in my hands and I sob, feeling broken and useless. I don’t think I can handle this… I bite my lip, feeling the tears running freely down my cheeks, my face hurting from my constant crying. I don’t feel like doing anything… I turn away and go back into my bedroom, climbing into my bed again and trying to go to sleep. There’s nothing I can do to keep myself from thinking about what I’ve done, but I hope this works…there’s nothing else I can think of… I close my eyes and everything goes dark…


	2. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.))
> 
> Chapter rating: PG-13

Vegeta’s been hiding in his room for over a week now. I muse silently as I walk through my unclean house. The floor is littered with rubbish, dirty plates and cups left around on the surfaces, dirty clothes just flung around the room. Empty wine bottles are around everywhere, my house looking like I had a party with a bunch of lazy alcoholics. It’s a good thing I don’t smoke, really. The amount of full ashtrays around would probably drive me insane. As I sit on my settee, I sigh. I’m so alone…I haven’t seen Brolli or Trunks for days and I can’t stand having no contact with anyone. I think I’m going to go insane.  
  
I’ve been wearing the same clothes for three days now, not having the motivation to get changed. Not that anyone would care, all my friends have deserted me. I sigh as I realise I have run out of food and dishes, and I decide that eating pizza doesn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. It’s easy and I don’t even have to cook it. I reach for the phone and notice an old solicitors letter, grabbing it and reading it instead. It was the one I received when my father died, telling me of what I had inherited from him. I look through the list again and I see that I inherited all of his journals. Maybe I should read them…it’s not like I do anything else around this house except mope and make it untidy. I get up from the sofa and head into the box room, finding one full of journals, dragging it into my livingroom and starting to read the last few months of my father’s life.  
  
 _This year has started out so well. All of my experiments are going according to plan! Well, most of them are. The capsules, it seems, cannot carry around live animals, after opening a few to find their occupants were dying, or in fact, dead, was one of the biggest let-downs I’ve ever faced with my company. But it doesn’t really matter about animal transportation; I doubt that anyone would want to encase their animals like that. Some of my colleagues suggest we keep trying, but I have decided it was a lost cause. I don’t think they were very happy to hear that.  
  
One of my best work friends, Vegeta, suggests we try to capsulate bigger things than we are now, like cars or houses, and I think that that may be possible. He is one of the brightest people at the company, and I am thinking of giving him the company when I retire. He could take this company straight to the top._  
  
I pause, biting my lip. Vegeta? I look over at Vegeta’s bedroom, wondering whether it was him who my father wrote about, but I shake my head. It can’t be…can it? I look back at the journals, finding more extracts with his name in, more mentions as my father’s death grew closer.  
  
 _Vegeta has decided that he wants to try and see if humans can be capsulated, and insists we make a clone of him to test it out on. We have already started out a DNA sample, and he has modified it, to give the other a tail, though I do not understand why._  
  
My eyes widen as I flick through some other entries. A tail…’Geta has a tail…is ’Geta a clone…? I turn forward a few days, skimming some entries until I find more about the clone.  
  
 _The clone seems to be growing well, and I always go to see its progress every day. Vegeta, however, is too immersed into his job to care. He hasn’t thought about this very well, but I cannot stop the experiment now. To make this clone has cost us thousands and thousands of pounds, to stop would waste all that money, and I fear my business is going to go bankrupt as it is. I am getting poor, and I am having to take money from the company just to keep my family alive and well._  
  
I’d never noticed we were running out of money…I don’t understand…he never acted as if the company was going bad…he hid it so well…  
  
 _The worst thing to ever happen to the company has happened. We are almost broke and I don’t know how long the company will last. I have told others about this problem, and they have offered money to help us along a while, but I am still unsure of how long we will last. Vegeta is determined to capsulate humans, and the clone isn’t growing as fast as we need it to, so he has taken it upon himself to be the experiment. Everyone is worried, but he refuses to give up his idea, determined that my business shall not fail. He plans to test it tomorrow…I hope I can talk him out of it…_  
  
I bite my lip, wondering what happened to the other Vegeta, hoping that maybe if I can find him, then maybe he could persuade ’Geta to come out of his room and talk to me. Or maybe he’d hate me for what I’ve done and take ’Geta away from me. My heart hurts at the thought. I don’t want to lose him…  
  
 _It’s terrible. I can’t really talk about it…Vegeta…he…he died during the experiment…we couldn’t get him out quickly enough and he suffocated. I never should have let him do this. People are wondering what to do about the clone, seeing as it has almost finished growing. Another week or two and it will be as old as Vegeta had wanted it. I think it will have all of his memories up to the point of taking the DNA, but it has been growing a few months, so we cannot give it to his family and say it is him. It wouldn’t work. I don’t know what we are going to do._  
  
I stare at the page and read the words over and over again, trying to calm myself down. I never thought that ’Geta would be a clone…I don’t know how he would react to the news…maybe he’ll hate me even more, because my father was the one who created him, or maybe he will hate himself, for being cloned. I look at his door again, shaking. He hasn’t been eating or going to the bathroom…he could die from malnutrition… I sigh sadly. He’d never open the door to get the food, let alone accept anything I give him, I’m sure he hates me enough to kill himself, just to upset me. I tremble, then turn the page of the journal. I am near the end of his life now.  
  
 _Nappa has kindly offered to take in Vegeta's clone, and I have allowed him to. He and Vegeta were great friends and I hope everything will be alright. The doctors have told me that I have cancer and that I don’t have much longer to live, even if I have treatment, so I won’t have any. There is no point. I have decided to give the company to Kakarott, because I feel that maybe he can salvage it. I don’t know why I feel this, but I cannot let all of our research go to waste. I just hope I have made the right decision._  
  
Tears brim in my eyes and I swallow, trembling. I gave the company to Bulma…Bulma salvaged it…I made the right choice…I just…I want him to be proud of me…he knew science wasn’t my forte. So Vegeta was given to one of his old friends called Nappa… I read the next few entries, then find more.  
  
 _Nappa tells me that the clone knows nothing of Vegeta's past and that he is attempting to re-educate it, trying to see if he can help it remember. I wish him luck, for I don’t have much longer to live now, and I will never know if he succeeds. I plan to spend my last week with my family, hoping to say my final goodbyes before I pass on. I have not told them that I am ill, and I think it will be a shock for them, but I know that they will eventually get on with their lives. I don’t want my death to upset them in any way, I just…I love them so much…_  
  
That is the last entry. My heart pangs as I read it over and over again. I miss my father so much… But I pause, frowning. Nappa was re-educating Vegeta…so…why…did Vegeta think he was a cat? Unless…of course! Nappa must have re-educated him into believing he was a cat! But…why? What could he possibly gain by—What if…what if Vegeta and Nappa weren’t friends? What if Nappa was jealous of Vegeta? What if he hated him? Maybe forcing ’Geta into thinking he was a cat is some form of humiliation? A type of revenge? I scowl. I do not even know this man, and I already hate him.  
  
I look over to my unused computer and wonder if it possesses Nappa’s address, seeing as it used to be my father’s, but I have no clue where I would find it, or even if I could. There are probably hundreds and hundreds of files on there, and I would have no clue what program he would keep the data saved on, or what he’d name the file. It’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack. It could take days, or even weeks to find the right file, but then I’d have to search through it…maybe it isn’t even on this computer! I sigh. It could end up as a huge waste of time…  
  
Suddenly, the answer appears in my mind and I resist the urge to slap myself in the face. Of course! The company would have it on record and they’d know where it was! I pick up the phone and dial Bulma’s mobile, hoping she had it on and close to answer. To my great relief, the phone rings and I wait nervously for her to answer, my heart pounding in my chest. She could definitely help me find Nappa! I hear a click, and then Bulma’s voice.  
  
“Hey Kakarott! I haven’t heard from you in ages! How are you?” She asks happily. I bite my lip. How am I? After all that’s happened recently, I really don’t know…  
  
“I’m fine.” I lie, not wanting to worry her. “Hey, Bulma, I need to ask you a huge favour…” I pause, and wait for her to say something; no doubt she’s going to wonder what I could possibly want, and why I am asking her for it.  
  
“What’s wrong?” She asks, sounding concerned. “Do you need help with Chichi again? Why’s she upset this time?” I blink in confusion, wondering what she is talking about, but then it hits me. Oh yeah, I never told her that Chichi and I split up.  
  
“Umm…this isn’t about Chichi this time…” I say, feeling guilty. She doesn’t even know about ’Geta. “I need you to find the address of someone who works in the company for me.” She’s silent on the other end of the phone and I get a little worried that she won’t help me. “Please Bulma, this is important.” I hear her sigh.  
  
“Okay, but only this once. Who am I looking for?” I hear her typing and clicking in the background, obviously finding the file and I feel relieved, knowing I can find out straight away, gathering a pen and some paper to write down the man’s address, though I don’t know what I’ll do with it when I have it. “Hello? I need a name!” Bulma reminds me, and I blush slightly, glad she can’t see me.  
  
“His name is Nappa.” I say, not knowing anything else about him, unable to tell her any more information. “I don’t know anything else, except that he worked with my dad…” I add, feeling useless. There could be lots of guys named Nappa working at Capsule Corp, it could take forever to find the right one! There is more typing and clicking and I wait silently, not wanting to interrupt her, yet I am desperate to know. Finally, I hear her voice again.  
  
“There was a guy named Nappa Gilfoyle who worked here a while ago, and I have his address and number, but according to this, he died of a heart attack in the middle of an experiment one day…” She says, pausing. “There’s only him on record, really. Why did you want to know?” I am silent. Nappa is dead? I sigh sadly. Now there’s no way I can find out why ’Geta thinks he’s a cat… “Kakarott? Hey, you there?” Bulma asks, sounding worried.  
  
“Yeah, I’m here. Thanks for helping, Bulma, I really appreciate it.” I say happily, mentally wanting to scream. “I’ll talk to you again soon. Bye.” I hang up, then unplug the phone. It’s not fair! Nappa deserves to pay for what he did and now he can’t! Why did he have to be dead?! I grab the phone and throw it at the wall, angry, not caring when it smashed and fell, broken. “BASTARD!” I yell, knocking over my table and kicking my father’s journals, blinded by my rage. It’s so fucking unfair! I pause, then look at the mess I’ve made, looking at the broken glass and phone, feeling angry. It’s not fair! I stomp into my room, slamming the door behind myself and flinging myself into bed, trying to go to sleep, seething with hate.  
  
I don’t know how, but I manage to go to sleep, waking up at five in the afternoon, getting out of bed and heading back into the livingroom, swallowing as I see Bulma sitting on my settee, the house clean and, by the look of it, stocked with food. She’s watching the news on my television and I am shocked to see she looks like she came straight from Capsule Corp to see me. She’s a great friend. I really don’t know why we barely see each other.  
  
“Hey Bulma…” I say quietly, padding over and sitting on the settee nest to her, idly noticing I had a new table and phone in here. She switches off the news and turns to face me, looking worried and then hugging me tightly. I hug her back, then pull away, confused. “Why are you here Bulma? Shouldn’t you be at the company, revolutionising everything?” I joke weakly, not really knowing what to say to her. Her blue eyes blaze into my green ones, giving me a look like a mother does to a disobedient child, unnerving me.  
  
“I cannot _believe_ you hung up on me!” She scolds, poking me in the chest playfully, but then stops, her expression completely serious. “I’ve known you since you were two years old! You can’t just forget about me so easily!” I try to interrupt, but she puts her finger to my lips, giving me a warning look. “You didn’t tell me you and Chichi had split up!” She says, then moved her finger, allowing me to speak, but I’m not sure what to say, just staring at her, hoping she will tell me how she knows. “Kakarott…I know because this place was a mess and you look unhealthy…please, tell me what’s happened and what it has to do with Nappa Gilfoyle.” I nod and then start at the beginning, telling her about when I first found ’Geta up until the present, her blue eyes widening as I told her about ’Geta going into my room up til I rang her. We sat in silence for a few moments before I broke the quiet.  
  
“So…” I say, hoping to prompt her into giving me some advice, or just a noise would do. I want to know she heard me and I really need her help. She’s one of the smartest and most logical people I have ever known; she _must_ be able to give me some advice, right? She’s still deadly silent and I don’t know whether it’s a good or bad sign, biting my lip. She could just be thinking through what I’ve said, or she could be shocked, or even disgusted about this whole thing. I wait an agonising few more seconds, then I crack, unable to stand the uncomfortable silence any longer, it’s driving me completely insane! “Bulma? Any advice you’d like to give me?” I ask, impatient. She turns to me with a frown on her face, her blue eyes seeming dark and angered. I bite my lip. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything?  
  
“I can’t believe this!” Bulma yells, getting to her feet and pacing my livingroom. I stay silent, not wanting to enrage her further as she tries to think and calm herself down. “Let me get this straight.” She says, stopping and looking directly at me. “Our company grew a clone of a man named Vegeta, who died in a capsulating project gone wrong and they just… _gave_ the clone to Nappa?” I nod and she gives me a funny look, obviously not believing me in the slightest. “Cloning is _illegal_! There’s no way that your father would be able to create one, let alone allow it to happen!” I sigh and look away, I know this must be difficult for her; my father was like an idol to her and she doesn’t want to believe that he would break the law, for scientific advancement or not. Not that I blame her, if someone had told me this story, I wouldn’t believe it either. But there is a way I can convince her, or, at least, I hope it will convince her. I stand up and look for the box of my father’s journals. I am almost certain she will believe them, rather than me, but I can’t see them anywhere!  
  
“Bulma! Where did you put my father’s journals?” I ask, somewhat frantically. She gives me another funny look, then kneels down, pulling the box out from under the new table, watching me with a shocked expression as I fall to my knees and pull out the journal I read, then give it to her. “Read it.” She sighs and sits on my settee, opening the journal and reading from the beginning as I stay on the floor, looking at the tea-stain from when I spilled my cup days ago when I told Brolli and Trunks about what had happened the previous night. I was just as nervous then as I am now. I poke at the stain, trying to find a way for this situation to pass faster. I look up at Bulma again to see her reading with wide eyes, biting her lip. I wait again silently, watching her as she finishes reading, closing the journal and laying it next to her, just staring at me blankly, worrying me. “Bulma?” She blinks in response and stops biting her lip.  
  
“Why would anyone do such a thing?” She whispers, more to herself than me. “I can’t believe someone who worked in our company would do that…it’s so…weird and inhumane…” She trails off, then looks at her fingernails in silence. I just watch her with my emerald eyes, twitching nervously and impatiently, wanting her help and advice. After what seems like ages, she speaks again. “Can I go and look at him?” She asks quietly and I blink, not understanding what she means. Look at Nappa? The man’s a corpse! Why would she want to--? ’Geta. She wants to look at ’Geta. I want to slap my forehead again, but yet again, I resist and give her a weird look. Hasn’t she been listening to anything until I involved the company?  
  
“Of course.” I say, then laugh darkly. “If you can get him to open his door and if you give me advice on what to do, then, be my guest.” I bite my lip. I think I’m being too harsh. I mean, it’s not her fault I’m in this mess, it’s mine. I was the one who took him in, I was the one who took him on my date with Maitake and I was the one who rejected him and threatened him. I shouldn’t take my anger out on Bulma for things that I brought upon myself. She’s interested in the scientific aspect of things, it’s not like she’s going to harm him or take him away from me, is she? I pause, then look at her suspiciously. What if she wants to take him from me? What if she wants to do experiments on him? Will she hurt him to further her scientific career? Will she kill him to make sure nobody knows about Capsule Corp creating a clone? Suddenly, I realise I am growling and glaring at her, and I stop, feeling ashamed of myself. I am too suspicious for my own good! She only wants to see him for goodness sake! “I-I’m sorry Bulma…” I murmur, my voice quiet. “I’m just so stressed and upset about this whole thing…” She nods, then smiles at me, not looking bothered at all.  
  
“It’s okay Kakarott, I understand. You love ‘Geta, it’s obvious that you would want to protect him and keep him to yourself.” She says, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I blink a few times, then blush a deep crimson as I look at the floor in embarrassment. Me? Love ’Geta? Do I love him or is it just lust? I really don’t know. I can’t bear living without him, I miss him, I want to apologise and have sex with him, but love? Love’s such a strong word, how can she be so sure about how I feel if _I_ don’t know how I feel? I don’t think I have ever loved anyone. It is said to be such a powerful emotion, but I haven’t ever felt drawn enough to anyone…  
  
Except him.  
  
I bite my lip as I realise this. I never loved Chichi, that’s why I didn’t care when she left. I adapted so quickly to ’Geta’s habits and wants after she left that I must have been too involved in trying to please him to give her a few thoughts. I never felt lust after Chichi left either, not to Maitake or anyone, not even ’Geta, but I might have been suppressing it…  
  
It makes perfect sense!  
  
He fitted into my life so easily, I gave up my wife to keep him, I do anything and everything to make him happy, I love spending time with him, I can never stay mad at him, I accepted him(mostly) when he wanted me, despite what I did, I still want him. I spe-- Wait. He came to me. I look over at his door.  
  
Does that mean he loves me?  
  
I try to find some evidence to back this idea, but my mind keeps finding the reasons I love him. Some are similar, but they can be used as both. No. I need to find _original_ and _unused_ evidence for this, or it could just be me trying to fool myself into believing something untrue. I think hard about this. Indications that he likes me… An image of ’Geta attacking Maitake pops into my head and I blink it away. That won’t help me! I recall Trunks covered in cat scratches many times from trying to play with him and try to ignore it, trying to think of a good point.  
  
 _FLASHBACK_  
  
“UGH!” A pan had clattered to the ground from the kitchen as I had sat watching the television, ignoring my wife as she tried to cook us some dinner, still angry that I had brought home a mentally ill stranger whom I had found off the streets. I had scowled as I’d heard her cursing and then begin yelling. “Kakarott! You get this insane _freak_ away from me! He keeps _attacking_ me!”  
  
I remember sighing and getting up from my comfortable settee, going into my kitchen to see ’Geta with a fluffed-up tail from indignant anger, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Chichi, looking murderous. I had sat next to him and petted him into relaxation, then picked him up and took him back to the settee with me as she continued cooking.  
  
 _END FLASHBACK_  
  
Later on, she had tried to pet him, but he had scratched at her, leaving a scar on her hand. I blink, then think through everything again.  
  
He chose me. He attacked Chichi for trying to touch him. He attacked Trunks too, though I was always talking to Brolli at the time, so I don’t know why. Maitake got scratched badly for accidentally touching his tail. That’s when it hits me. I am the only person he lets touch him. He trusts me. He let me wash him and dress him and feed him as I wanted. The force of that realisation slaps me in the face, leaving me gobsmacked. He loves me. I love _him_. I look over to Bulma, who is giving me the ‘Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure _that_ out’ look, commonly used when I used to state the obvious because I was so deep in thought that I had to say it aloud to reaffirm it. Now is one of those times.  
  
“I love him.” It truly shocks me to see how easily I could say that sentence when I really had to think to say it to Chichi. “I love him. I love ’Geta.” I reaffirm again, trying to make it sink in. Bulma suddenly looks sympathetic towards me and I look away from her. I don’t want her sympathy, I need her help, but I don’t think there’s much she can do to help me in this. It is my fault, not hers, after all. I look back at her, seeing her wise cerulean eyes staring at me intensely, as if trying to figure something out. The gaze is rather unnerving and I break eye contact, looking at the floor again, not liking the deep silence between us, but not breaking it. I know why she is sympathetic towards me; this entire situation is ironic and problematic. She is sorry that it took me this long to figure it out, as am I. I don’t know whether I should have listened to my morality, or my heart, but at the time, I didn’t realise I loved him, I just thought it was lust. I didn’t want to take away a special part of him, or hurt him, but by rejecting him, I managed both.  
  
This is so screwed up.  
  
I don’t know whether to be happy or sad at this moment. He started showing his more human traits and I pushed him away, afraid and confused, even though I had wanted the same thing and wanted to see the real him. I’ve never really liked the way things change; not wanting to redecorate my home, buy new clothes unlike the ones I already have or even change my diet. This change from him being my pet to being a man scares me; I liked things as they had been. I can’t ever really grasp the idea that everything around me is always changing, because I never really got to say goodbye to my father. Since he died, I had tried to keep everything the same as before he had left me, but after my mother had died from heartbreak and Radditz had moved away, I had nothing to cling onto, except Chichi. But even she left me too.  
  
I don’t understand! Why does everyone want to leave me?! I haven’t done anything wrong! Why? Do they all hate me?! What did I do?!  
  
I realise I’m trembling, tears in my eyes and that Bulma is now holding me gently, allowing me to rest my head on her belly as she strokes my hair to soothe me. I still can’t get over how everyone left, the pain got so deep after my parents died and then Radditz just left me to deal with it on my own. Chichi couldn’t ever understand the pain I felt – still feel – so I was always alone in my sadness and depression. No one will ever understand. Now, I have lost everything. My parents, my brother, my wife and now ’Geta. I still have a few friends, but I miss living with people and my friends don’t live with me, and if I asked, they wouldn’t be able to because of their jobs and lifestyles needing them to be where they live now. I’m alone.  
  
“Kakarott?” I hear Bulma's concerned voice and look up, trying to calm myself as I move away from her and look to the side. I need to calm my emotions. I shouldn’t let her see me like this. I’m weak and pathetic, I don’t deserve friends! I don’t deserve my house, I don’t deserve my money and I don’t deserve ’Geta! My rage at myself intensifies dramatically, I don’t deserve to live. I look over to the knife I had grabbed when I had considered this last time. I would be able to do it now. “Kakarott?!” I stand and walk to the kitchen, not caring if she sees me kill myself. I deserve to die. I grab the handle and pull it out of the wooden block I store it in, lifting the blade and testing the sharpness with my thumb. Yes, it will work. “KAKAROTT??” I hear Bulma yell frantically and she gets off the settee, running towards me as I slice from the bottom of my wrist towards my elbow, watching the blood flow from my skin. Bulma screams and I turn to face her, only to be hit in the side of the head with a frying pan and fade into the darkness…


	3. Chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.)) The ‘put your socks on’ is not mine, it is © GogetaJr, I just borrowed it(with permission) because it’s funny! I also don’t own the flora company, or the Pussycat dolls, although that’d be nice… (rubs chin) I also don't own the song Don't Cha by The Pussycat Dolls.
> 
> Chapter rating: NC-17

_You put your left sock on, you take your left sock off, you put your left sock on and complain that it's too cold! You do the ‘put your socks on dance’ and you chuck a psych! And this song is really bad! HEY! Woooooow the ‘put your socks on’! Wooooo! The ‘put your socks on’! Woooo! The ‘Put your socks on’! And that’s what it’s all about!_  
  
I open bleary eyes, that strange song dancing in my head as I blink and look around the left side of the room. Where am I? How did I get here? My last memory is of… My eyes widen and I stare at my left arm in shock, seeing it bandaged heavily, blood visible on the outside covering in a line from my wrist to my elbow and I wince, remembering what I did. I attempted to commit suicide…in front of Bulma. I sit up and bury my face into my hands in shame. I must have looked so insane and unstable…I don’t blame her for knocking me out with the frying pan… Oh God…what if she’s gotten a therapist for me?? Or worse! What if she wants to put me in a mental hospital?!  
  
The irony of my situation slaps me in the face. I deserve this for what I did to ’Geta. I threatened to send him to one for something he couldn’t help, but I’ll be the one living there…for something I _could_ help. I bite my lip harder. I truly do deserve this. I blink, then look around the rest of my room silently. This may be the last time I’m in here… I am shocked to see Bulma sitting on a chair next to my bed and I look away, unable to face her. She must think I’m crazy…  
  
“The ‘put your socks on’ song?” I hear Bulma’s concerned, confused, yet slightly amused voice ask me. “You still remember it? It’s been so long since then…about sixteen years…” A hand gently grasps my right and I look over at her, sad that she had to see me do something so shameful and weak, looking into her eyes reluctantly, expecting to see disgust and fear in them. But I don’t. All I can see is concern and friendly love towards me, making me completely grateful to have such wonderful, caring people as my friends. Her hand gives mine a comforting squeeze and I manage a weak smile, afraid of what’s going to happen to me. I…I don’t want people to think I’m crazy…I don’t want to go to a mental hospital… Bulma’s blue eyes glitter at me and she smiles softly. “Just relax. I swear everything’s going to be fine…” I nod dumbly, not believing her. ’Geta’s still in his room and I keep getting closer to killing myself…I just don’t see how everything will be ‘fine’. There’s no possible way it could be.  
  
“How long did you knock me out for?” I whisper, the side of my head starting to hurt from remembrance. Damn psychosomaticism. I rub my head and wince, looking back at her sadly. She doesn’t seem to have heard me, just holding my hand and smiling to comfort me, though it isn’t working. In fact, it’s rather disconcerting and I’m getting nervous. I ask louder. “How long did you knock me out for?” She blinks, then blushes slightly, obviously embarrassed that she didn’t hear me the first time and clears her throat, looking at her watch. I wait.  
  
“Not much longer than three hours, really…” She says in hushed tones, obviously aware that I have a headache from when she hit me. Looking deeply apologetic, she bites her lip. “You must have a terrible headache…do you want me to get you some paracetamol?” I nod, then wince as my wound aches, the pain getting worse. Silently, she gets up and leaves, going to get me the relief she had promised. I sigh and look at my hands. I still can’t quite believe I did that, though my memories, the bandages and pain all support it. I never thought I’d be left with no other option than to kill myself…it’s so selfish…what about the people who love and care about me? What about my friends? How would they feel? What about ’Geta? How would he have felt to _finally_ leave that room, then discover I had killed myself? Would he be sad? Would he feel guilty? I bite my lip. It would be so awful…he’d be alone…with nowhere to go and no one to turn to…  
  
A hand on my shoulder makes me look up and Bulma offers me two tablets, which I take from her and sigh. I pop them in my mouth and am given a glass of water, which I drink to get the tablets into my system, drinking half of the glass, before putting it on my bedside table. Bulma sits next to me and I look at her in regret.  
  
“I-I’m so sorry…” I whisper, rubbing my right hand over my left sadly. I don’t really have the right words to say to her. I regret doing this to myself. I regret that she had to see me do it and stop me…I regret not thinking about anyone else’s feelings…I…I am so glad I’m not dead. My heart pangs with sadness as I think of how ’Geta might have reacted…what he might have to do to survive without me because he has no other place to go and no money… Bulma rests a hand on top of mine, and I break out of my depressing thoughts to look at her.  
  
“Nothing bad is going to happen…” She reassures me. “You’re not really that bad, just lovesick…so, my guess is when he comes out of his room, you’ll be fine.” My throat closes up. But what if he _never_ comes out? What if he’s died from lack of food? What if he’s already gone?? My eyes widen and I push the sheets away from me, also pushing Bulma’s hand away, dashing from my room. I hear Bulma yelling after me, a high tone of panic in her voice, but I ignore her, running up to ’Geta’s door and pulling on the handle desperately.  
  
“’Geta?! ’Geta, you in there??” I cry, pulling the handle harder. “Please ’Geta, answer me! Are you okay?!” I stop yelling and let go of the handle, slumping to my knees in defeat. He doesn’t want to talk to me, otherwise he’d be out of there already. Bulma arrives, walking nervously towards me and I get up, going to sit on my settee. She follows, sitting next to me and opens her mouth to speak.  
  
-knock knock knock-  
  
I blink, then turn, listening for the sound. Is someone at the door? I go over and listen, but nobody’s there. I look back at Bulma, but she looks as confused as I am. Where’s it coming from?  
  
-knock knock-  
  
I twist around, going over to ’Geta’s room and put my ear to the wood, hearing nervous breathing. ’Geta’s knocking…can’t he talk again? I look at the keyhole to see it still covered, to my great disappointment.  
  
“’G-Geta? Is that you knocking?” I ask, quiet.  
  
-knock-  
  
My eyes widen. I know this type of communication! Knock once for yes, twice for no! I get it! I take a deep breath and sit in front of the door, wondering what to say. He’s here, he’s listening, he _cares_.  
  
“A-Are you ready to come out of there yet?” I ask, nervous. I want him to come out so much…I miss him dearly. But I don’t think he’s quite ready yet, unless he’s stuck, or-  
  
-knock knock-  
  
I was right… I sigh, my hand on the door as I whisper.  
  
“Are you stuck in there? Or can you come out when you want?” I ask, then realise that these questions could both need opposite answers. “I-I mean…you can come out, can’t you?”  
  
-knock-  
  
Okay, I see now. He’s capable, but he’s not ready. My hearts sinks in my chest. I didn’t mean to hurt him, really, I didn’t. Does he know that? Does he forgive me? So many questions twist through my mind, but I know I have to keep this short; the longer we communicate, the longer he’ll be in there.  
  
“I-I’m really sorry about what I did.” I whisper, trying to tell him, but not cry from the emotional overload. “I never wanted to hurt you, I just didn’t know what to do…I-I was serious when I said it…but I was being too hasty…I…” I pause. What do I say now? I look over to Bulma for help, but she says nothing, shaking her head. He might not know she’s here, and he might get the wrong idea about us. That’d be the last thing I need right now. I decide that I need to get to the point, so I take a deep breath, then say what I have finally figured out. “I-I think…I think I love you…” I bite my lip, waiting for an answer, but I get none. “Y-You understand…don’t you? Can you still hear me?” Silence. For a very long time, I can hear nothing. Maybe I can’t hear him? Maybe I’ve said too much too fast. I stay quiet for a while, but then I crack under the pressure. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I threatened you. I-I…” I trail off, then swallow nervously. “I’m sorry I love you.” I move away from the door. “And I’m sorry if that _isn’t_ enough!” I practically yell the last sentence, then turn to Bulma, speaking in low tones. “You should leave. I’ll be fine.” I walk hurriedly back into my room and slam the door, leaving myself isolated from them both.  
  
I can’t stand this for much longer! My eyes well up with angry tears of regret and shame. I can’t believe what’s been going on…it all happened do fast! Almost too fast, unbelievably fast…like it wasn’t real. As if I were dreaming all of this. I pause. That seems very likely right now. This is a dream. And I will wake up before anything too bad actually happens. Like a tightrope walker has a safety net. I’ll wake up and ’Geta will be there, nuzzling my face to make me get up and feed him, and then I’ll look into his cute brown eyes and kiss him breathless, pinning him under me and spreading hi—My eyes widen and I punch myself in the face, finally being alone. I shouldn’t think things like that! I wince and cover my hot cheek with my hand, trying to calm the pain. Sighing, I move my hand away. This can’t really be a dream if I feel pain, can it? Unless, of course, that this is a very detailed dream…  
  
I laugh. Bitterly. For a very long time. I don’t know how long, but when I stop, the laughter has made my voice and throat hurt really badly. I stand up and pace my room in silence, feeling kind of hungry, but I just don’t really feel like eating. I know I should, but what if Bulma's still there? I don’t want to face her yet. I just want to be alone. I want ’Geta. No, that’s not right. I don’t know what I want. It’s funny how I never know what I want, then a decision is made and I just go along with it. I sigh sadly, my hunger getting the best of me. If Bulma's there, then she’s there, there’s nothing I can do about that. I walk over to my door and fling it open, looking into the livingroom to see it empty. She must be gone. I look to the clock on the wall and wince. It’s almost midnight. How many hours have I been laughing for? I walk straight to the sink and grab a glass, filling it with some nice cold water and I drink half of it in one go, cooling my sore dry throat.  
  
I look over to my fridge longingly, wondering what Bulma will have put in it, but strangely, I don’t want anything she may have given me. I don’t understand why I feel such resentment towards her, but I do. I bite my lip. I only have two options: eat or don’t eat. My stomach rumbles and I open my fridge, hunger winning. My mouth waters as I gaze upon the wide selection of foods stocked in my fridge and I go straight for the Scottish Smoked Salmon, opening the packet and eating it cold, though I much prefer to heat it in the microwave and have it with rice. I eat and eat until I realise the packet is empty, my cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment as I drop the wrapper in the bin. I’m glad no one saw me. I must have looked like I hadn’t eaten in days.  
  
Now that my hunger has receded, I root around the cupboards until I find some white bread, getting some flora out of my fridge with some cheese, making myself a sandwich and snacking on it as I look around my empty home, then look away. It’s painful to look at. It never used to be so empty or silent because there was always someone else around besides myself that I could talk to and be around and have fun with. I’m not used to being alone. That’s why it pains me. I feel useless, unneeded and unwanted…worse than after my family fell apart. It’s really no wonder that I’m acting crazy and trying to commit suicide, is it?  
  
I sigh and finish eating, putting my dirty dishes next to the sink, not knowing what to do. I’m not tired, so there’s no point trying to go to bed. I spot the TV and go over, sitting in my comfortable seat on my settee, turning on the screen and flicking through the channels, finding nothing except bad films and adverts with half-naked women on. I frown. For once in my life, I wonder where the half-naked men adverts are. There’s loads of half-naked women adverts, but I can’t seem to find any with men! I scowl. Stupid biased adverts! I turn on a music channel and smile. More half-dressed women. But then again, it’s a girl band, so it makes sense that there’s no men. I strain my eyes to see the name of the band, then blink, looking to the side. Pussycat dolls. Cat. ’Geta.  
  
 _~Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?~_  
  
I bite my lip. Freak. Chichi called ’Geta that once and he’d done nothing wrong! The song fades out and I turn off the TV before another song can start. Everything reminds me of him. I sigh sadly and look over to his bedroom door. Is he ever going to come out? Well, of course he will, but why won’t he come out now? I sigh again in defeat and get up, deciding to try and sleep again. There’s nothing else I can do. I feel like drinking, but I don’t think that there are any pubs or shops open to get any from. It’s weird. I’ve legally been able to drink for four years now, and up til now, I’ve never really wanted to. I mean, sure I’ve had the occasional bottle of wine every now and then with a meal, but it doesn’t really count. I’ve never wanted to just go out and purposely drink alcohol, with no food or anything to absorb it all up, but now…now I want to grab a bottle of anything and just drink it…  
  
I look around again, this time looking for something to drink, and I notice the cool cabinet where I keep vintage wines for celebrations with friends. Perfect. Wine is good enough to get me drunk, isn’t it? I walk over and open the cabinet, finding – to my great happiness – that there are at least ten bottles in there, and they’re all red, so that I don’t have to mix up the flavours. Now, all I need is something to occupy my time while I drink these… I look over to the new table Bulma bought for me and smile. I can play cards! I take three bottles from my cabinet, and gently nudge it shut, bringing the bottles to the floor next to my sofa, placing them under the table, so I won’t knock them over and get a bottle opener from my kitchen, placing it under the table with them. Now…where did I put those cards…? I think carefully and look around the room, wondering when I played cards last. Was it Christmas when I played Canasta against Brolli? Or was it earlier…? I don’t really remember… I go over to the cabinet again, and find an old pack of cards at the bottom. Great!  
  
I take the cards and run back over to the table, sitting on my settee so that I face it and open a bottle of wine, drinking it straight from the bottle, grinning weirdly. I think I just drank a whole glass in one go! My vision looks a bit fuzzy, but I ignore it, shuffling the cards and laying out a solitaire deck. A row of one, then two, then three, up to seven, leaving the top card face up, looking at me as I leave enough room for four spaces and put the rest of my deck near the top. Luckily for me, there’s already an ace I can put up, and turn over a new card.   
  
On my fifth game of solitaire, and my third bottle of wine, I realise I need the toilet, so I stagger to my feet and go. When I get back, my solitaire hand is gone and I frown, slipping onto my seat and look at the table, until a deep voice interrupts my thoughts.  
  
“Kakarott?” I look up and see ’Geta sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the table and I stare, seeing him in my clothes, covered from neck to toe. I look over him greedily and lick my lips, the alcohol fuzzing up my thoughts as I look into his eyes. “Want to play strip poker?” He asks playfully, a smirk on his lips, and I smirk back, the idea arousing me further. I reach over the table and grab the back of his head, pulling him into a deep kiss, then pull away, grinning.  
  
“How about we forget the game and move on to the after part?” I suggest, lust making my voice husky as he pouts at me, the look making me want him even more. It seems almost unreal that this is happening, but I am not going to reject him again. Never again. I love him too much.  
  
“But I want to know who won!” He says, his eyes glittering slyly at me. I chuckle and move off of the settee, picking him up and laying him on it, crawling over him, knocking the cards from his hands and onto the floor.  
  
“You won.” I purr, my hands touching over his covered chest slowly. “See…you’re fully clothed and I don’t have pants on…you won…” My mouth reaches his and he wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me in for a kiss, his tongue searching through my mouth slowly, as if he were savouring the wine I had been drinking. I can’t take it anymore, and I break away, pulling the zip of his pants down, and undoing the top button. He looks at me in confusion, his face pink, obviously wondering why I am removing his pants first, but I ignore him and pull his pants down past his knees, licking my lips at his arousal in front of me. It looks delicious. But my own arousal is throbbing, trapped in my boxers and I yank them down, freeing it into the air. I hear ’Geta gasp, but I just smirk and press his knees to his chest, leaving his entrance exposed. He is trembling, but I can’t stop myself as I position at his entrance, panting.  
  
“K-Kakarott?” His voice sounds worried and unsure, so I lean forward and kiss him, pushing deeply into him, feeling him cry out from the pain, but I can’t stop, sheathing myself completely and moaning lowly at the heat and tightness around me. It feels so damn good! I can’t help myself as I push my hips forward, then draw them back, repeating the process, groaning in pleasure, the sounds of my happiness drowning out his cries of pain. So damn tight! I thrust harder, moaning and groaning over him, watching his face as I shove myself deeper into him, ignoring his tears. My eyes widen and I gasp, finally realising what I am doing and I still my hips, leaning forward to kiss him, yelping when he bites my tongue. I pull away and stare sadly at him, my hands caressing the curve of his hips in apology, his pained expression making me feel awful and thrust my hips gently, watching his expression change to wide-eyed shock, no longer looking pained as I brush over his prostate.  
  
“Vegeta…” I murmur, one of my hands moving to stroke his erection, his mouth wide open as my hips gently move, my arousal moving deeply within him, but not hurting him. Moans flow from his throat and I move my hips faster, watching him worriedly for any pain, afraid of hurting him further, but luckily, seeing none. I buck into him harder, my hand moving at a fast pace, panting as I feel a tightening in my loins, signalling the closeness of my orgasm, the look on ’Geta’s face indicating that he is close too. My mouth latches onto his and we kiss desperately, ’Geta reaching his climax first, crying out into my mouth as his scalding walls clamp around my hardness, warm liquid splattering onto my hand as I yell, my own orgasm filling him. I fall onto him limply and kiss his neck a few times before I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head, silencing me.  
  
“We can talk when we wake up…” His whispers, his voice low and I nod as he yawns, slipping out of him and hugging him close as we cuddle and fall into a deep slumber.


	4. Chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.)) The ‘put your socks on’ is not mine, it is © GogetaJr, I just borrowed it(with permission) because it’s funny! I also don’t own the Flora Company, or the Pussycat dolls, although that’d be nice… (rubs chin) I don’t own the Resolve Company either, though I do have a box of them in my cupboard, lol.
> 
> Chapter rating: PG-13

Ugh…my head hurts… I blink as I wake up, wincing at the pounding pain in my head and the sick feeling in my stomach and throat, realising I have got an awful hangover, rubbing my tired eyes. My first hangover…damn, I feel like shit…I’ll never drink that much wine again… I look at the empty bottles on my floor, then I get flashbacks of me and ’Geta having sex, though it seemed more like rape, my eyes widening as I look beneath me, confused to see only my settee. Blinking, I look at the floor, expecting to see playing cards littered all over the place, but seeing none. I blink my bleary eyes, looking over to ’Geta’s door, seeing it as closed as it was before I last ate. Damn. I feel a stickiness on my stomach and lower abdomen and I sigh, knowing that my settee is now stained. I must either have been hallucinating that my settee was ’Geta, or I got so drunk, I fell asleep and had a wet dream. My cheeks burn in embarrassment as I sit up, looking at my table to see the solitaire hand I had played last night, though some cards were wrong numbers and colours from what I remember. Though, to be honest, I could’ve played it like that, being too drunk to see the cards properly, or notice I was doing it wrong.  
  
I sigh and get up, going to get kitchen paper to wipe up my mess, pulling up my boxers and swallowing in nervous embarrassment. It had seemed so real, but my tongue doesn’t hurt and I didn’t wake on top of him. I run back over to my sofa and wipe it as clean as I can, frowning at my recent bad luck with stains. Tea on Brolli's carpet, tea on my carpet, and … on my sofa. I blush as I throw the kitchen paper in the bin. From the amount I just wiped, it must have been a _really_ good dream. My cheeks flush redder as I make myself a cup of tea and sit on my settee again, thinking about taking a shower as I sip the hot strong brown liquid. It’s probably best if I take some tablets and eat some food too… My head is killing me. I get up and go into my cupboard, opening another packet of paracetamol and noticing a box of Resolve on the shelf, taking my paracetamol as I read the box.  
  
“It’s a hangover cure…” I murmur to myself, reading the instructions eagerly. I’ll do almost anything to get rid of this deep pounding ache in my skull. I just have to dissolve it in water, hm? Yeah, I can do that. I grab a clean glass and fill it with water, opening the box of resolve and grabbing a sachet from it, pouring it into the water and stir it with my index finger, a lemony scent filling the room. So it will taste lemony, I guess. I take my finger out and lift the glass to my lips, taking a huge swig of the cloudy liquid, then fight off the sudden urge to spit it out and throw up. It tastes absolutely _disgusting_! I force myself to swallow, putting the glass and the remainder of its contents on the side as I shudder. I don’t want to drink any more of it, but I don’t want this hangover either! Picking the lesser of two evils, I grab the glass and down the rest of it, swallowing as fast as I can so as not to taste it again.  
  
Yuck.  
  
I stash the glass in the sink, then shudder. I don’t think I’ll ever get drunk enough to have to drink that again, in fact, I’ll make sure that I won’t. I sigh. What should I do now? I’m not tired enough to sleep, the television would aggravate my pained head, as would the computer… I look at the cards again and smile weakly, shuffling them and sitting on my settee as I deal another solitaire hand out. Halfway through the game, my stomach rumbles and I go into my kitchen, making myself a ham sandwich and cup of tea, sitting back down and turning over another card. I pick up my sandwich, about to take a bite, when I hear the distinct click of a door being unlocked, my eyes darting to ’Geta’s bedroom door, seeing the handle moving down to open it. My sandwich slips through my fingers and lands with a ‘splat’ on my plate, forgotten, as ’Geta steps through the doorway, the cat ears missing from his upsweep of brown hair, wearing a pair of black shorts and a navy shirt, his tail coiled around his waist. I stare. Is this real? Was that Resolve an hallucination drug instead?? My headache has calmed…I’m overreacting… He spots me and looks at me, his face impassive and expressionless, the only indication of how he feels being the swishing of his tail, now waving behind him. I still can’t believe it’s him. It _is_ ’Geta.  
  
“’Ge-” I pause, biting my lip. I’ve been referring to him as ’Geta since I took him in, even after I rejected him. He’s not my pet anymore; he’s a human being and I don’t think he’ll appreciate me calling him that anymore. He’s mad at me, maybe the nickname would make it worse. After all, he has a full name. “Vegeta…” I whisper, still staring at him, barely noticing the flicker of confusion flash across his face, before it went back to being blank. I guess he wasn’t expecting that…after all, I’ve only ever called him ’Geta, so I’d be confused too. I bite my lip again, unsure of what to say to him. He looks so thin and ill… “A-Are you hungry?” I ask, nervous. “I can make you something to eat and drink if you like…” He nods silently and I go into the kitchen, pulling out a tin of tuna and make him a tuna sandwich. When I go back in, he is sat on the floor, looking blankly at the empty bottles, his face blank, but his eyes expressing pain and sadness. Shit. Did last night really happen?! I look at him worriedly and go over, offering the plate, which he takes. “Can you still talk?” I blurt out, the silence making me edgy. He only nods, then eats his food, his eyes still looking sad. “Vegeta, I…” I pause, worried about how ill he looks. “What drink would you like?” He shrugs and I can’t help but get a little angry. I’m trying to help and he’s not even _talking_ to me! He wants a glass of shrug? Fine! I’ll go chop off someone’s shoulders and shove them in a glass then!  
  
“Water…” He whispers, then goes back to being silent and eating. Finally! I walk over to the sink and get him a glass, fill it with water and bring it back, expecting a thank you as he takes it and drinks some. Instead, he smiles at me and carries on eating, my heart lifting a little. He has a gorgeous smile… I watch him eat, smiling shyly as he finishes, rubbing his belly lazily, a soft purr coming out of his throat as his tail flips around loosely in the air, making me want to pet it. I wonder if he’d let me… My hand reaches out to grab the tip, but suddenly, the tail is gone, now wrapped around his waist again as he gives me an accusing look. “Kakarott, don’t you dare think that by giving me food and water, that you can touch me in any way you like! You betrayed my trust and a measly tuna sandwich doesn’t fix a broken heart!” He almost yells, then his face goes red as he realises the last part of what he said. I know this is difficult for him, because it’s difficult for me too… I want to hold him close and kiss him…I want to hear him say that everything’s okay…I want to feel him kiss me back and touch me, tugging my shirt… My face goes red and I block off that train of thought.  
  
“I-I understand…” I whisper, feeling awful. “I just want you to know that I…I love you Vegeta…and you can stay here as long as you need to.” I look at the floor sadly. He’ll obviously not want to stay here with me… “I promise I won’t touch you without permission…” I look back at him and smile weakly, wondering if he knows he’s a clone, and if he doesn’t, should I tell him? What was he doing in his room anyway? Would he tell me? Should I ask…? No. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me. The silence now is awkward and uncomfortable and I can’t stand it. “So…umm…would you like a bath or something? You have been in your room for quite a while…” I bite my lip. I hope he didn’t take that offensively, I wasn’t saying he smelt or anything…  
  
“Yes, I’ll have a bath.” He says, standing up, watching me and I smile.  
  
“Okay, I’ll get us some towels and we can-” He cuts me off.  
  
“Alone.” He states, eyeing me angrily. “I don’t want to bathe with you anymore.” My heart sinks in my chest. We’ve _always_ bathed together! I feel cheated, but I nod silently, going to get him a towel, getting a large white one for him, instead of the smaller one that I use, knowing he’ll want to cover as much of himself as he can. I pass it to him and go back to my card game, now pretending to ignore him as he goes back into his room, then comes back, the towel going down from under his armpits to past his knees. I try to ignore him, but my eyes stray over, looking up and down his body. He’s only wearing a towel after all… “Kakarott?” His voice sounds nervous as I turn to face him properly. “W-Will you bathe with me?” His cheeks are pink. “We can wash each other’s backs that way…” I can’t help but smile at him! This is a huge step forward!  
  
“Sure, Vegeta, just give me a minute.” I abandon my card game and fetch my towel, passing him and smiling as I go into my room, leaving the door open so I can leave faster. I strip, throwing my shirt and boxers to the floor, suddenly feeling eyes on me and I turn around, naked, to see an embarrassed Vegeta with wide eyes staring at me, looking guilty. My face flushes red as I grab my towel and wrap it around my waist, avoiding his gaze as I walk right past him, deciding to ignore what happened. “Um…you know the way, right?” He suddenly turns to face me, scarlet, nodding.  
  
“Yeah.” I lead the way, feeling him walking behind me, a feeling of unease and nervousness lingering between us. I wonder why he changed his mind so suddenly. Was it because he’s never bathed alone? Was it because I was disappointed? He stared at me while I was naked…maybe he wanted to watch me bathe too? I shake my head. I need to stop thinking and just wash myself. I mean, it’s not good to think about things I can’t have, it’ll make me want them more… “Kakarott? Where are you going?” Vegeta's timid voice asks me, making me realise I was walking too far down. I turn around and go to the lake’s edge, trying not to feel stupid.  
  
“Nowhere really.” I reply, kneeling down and testing the water with my finger. “It’s warm enough to bathe in.” He doesn’t move. I sigh. I guess I’m going to strip off first. I take the towel from my waist from my waist and lay it on the shore, slowly wading into the water and looking out at the scenery to give him his privacy, though he won’t give me mine.  
  
“Kakarott?” I turn to face him and flush red as I see him drop his towel carefully next to mine and walk slowly into the water, my face heating more the closer he gets to me, turning away in embarrassment. I almost jump when hands start kneading my back, looking over at him in shock. “I just thought I should do your back first…” He purrs, sending shivers up my spine. Oh God…he’s so close…and touching me…and so… _naked_ … I don’t think I can control myself. His hands are so soft… Where did the timid Vegeta go? This one’s so confident and positive, his actions almost seductive…what happened to the shy embarrassed Vegeta, who was innocent? His hands scrub at my back, using pondweed to get rid of my dead skin, leaving me with nothing to do.   
  
A few minutes later, the scrubbing stops and I turn to face him, smiling. He gives me a sultry look and slowly turns away, looking over his shoulder expectantly, offering the pondweed. I take it from him and the second I touch his back, I feel him shiver. Blushing a little, I scrub at his skin, trying to do it as quickly and efficiently as possible. He’s coming on to me again, but, no matter how much I want him, I feel that we should take it slowly… I know it’ll be difficult, but I will try my best. After all, I love him, do-- I jump as his tail coils my wrist, mostly wet, but the tip dry, realising I had stopped cleaning him, his face looking at me again from over his shoulder, confused. I smile, then continue scrubbing, trying to ignore his sounds of enjoyment and loud purr, though the sound feels like it’s rumbling through my body, becoming aroused in response. Dammit! I flush red and move my hands back, turning away from him.  
  
“Your back’s done now.” I inform him, looking back out of the water, shivering. I try to peel his wet tail from my wrist, but he jumps on me and we topple into the water, blushing as I realise he is straddling my lap, our eyes locked. “Vegeta…” I whisper, gently propping myself on my elbows to keep my head out of the water, swallowing nervously as his face gets closer, our lips almost together. I only have two options here; kiss him or drown. I really don’t want to drown! Suddenly, his mouth is pressed to mine and his hands are in my hair, keeping my head out of the lake and pulling it closer to his own. He kisses me gently, his tongue licking at my lip, trying to make me kiss him back. I push myself up with my hands so that I am sitting up, then wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him closer to me as I dominate his mouth, groaning and stroking up his back, wanting to pet his tail, but not doing so. I’m not going to go that far with him yet; I don’t deserve it. I try to pull back, and he lets me, smiling at him as I do so. I say nothing and gently move him off of my lap, going to the bank and collecting my towel to dry myself with.  
  
“Ummm, Kakarott?” I turn and see him still sitting in the water, looking worried and confused. I smile brightly at him and offer my hand, watching as he takes it, and pull him out, going red when he leans forward as if to kiss me, his hand grabbing at my towel. I hold on tightly and move back, grabbing his towel and give it to him, still smiling as he takes it and frowns, before going back into the house, dying my hair. He comes in after me, and then throws his towel in my face, looking angry. Shit. Before I can say anything, he turns and goes into his room, slamming the door behind him, leaving me standing there. I sigh and pick up his towel, folding it and placing it on my new table as I lay on my settee. So much for a step forward… My eyes slip closed and I sigh again, relaxing for a while.  
  
I hear a door open and my eyes follow suit, looking at Vegeta as he walks over, dressed in tight-fitting black, his eyes fixed on mine as he crawls onto my settee, moving up to straddle my waist. I look up at him and tremble a little, still being damp and naked from the bath as his hands stroke over my chest, then tangle in my hair as he kisses me, not letting me go. After a while, he pulls back, staring me in the eyes.  
  
“Ve-” I begin, but he presses his finger to my lips, looking very serious.  
  
“Kakarott, I…am in love with you…” My eyes widen a little. “A-And you also said that you love me…if you do, you won’t deny me this time…I-I want you to make love to me…” He swallows and lets the sentence hang in the air, our gazes locked.  
  
This is so fast…


	5. Chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.)) The ‘put your socks on’ is not mine, it is © GogetaJr, I just borrowed it(with permission) because it’s funny! I also don’t own the Flora Company, or the Pussycat dolls, although that’d be nice… (rubs chin) I don’t own the Resolve Company either, though I do have a box of them in my cupboard, lol.
> 
> Chapter rating: PG-13

His fingers trace my lips, as he gives me an encouraging look, the other hand gently moving down my body, making me gasp, trembling, unable to stop myself becoming aroused, my eyes wide. This is just happening too fast…we can’t have sex now…I don’t deserve it…I’m not ready for this… I gasp again as his hand starts to move under my towel, too close for comfort. My hand moves and grabs his wrist just before he can touch me, his other hand resting on my cheek, his expression one of confusion as I move his hand away, my cheeks a dark shade, unable to fight this incredibly nervous knot in my stomach and make it go away, somehow feeling that I owe him more than this, that he deserves more than a quick bout of sex to prove my feelings towards him. My eyes lock with his, and I think he can see exactly what I am thinking through them, his hand on my cheek caressing it gently, as if saying he doesn’t mind, and that as long as I don’t push him away, he will be happy.  
  
“I love you too much to do that…” I say, trying not to be shy of the words because of their importance, my hands both coming together to hold the one I am already grasping, bringing it to my lips to kiss over, feeling him making a gentle noise of enjoyment and continuing to kiss over his palm and up his arm, his other hand slipping from my cheek as I sit up, kissing and nipping at his shoulder. I can feel his body shivering over mine, and I cannot help but love the way it feels as I move my lips to his neck, his hands finding their way around my biceps as I trail my lips over his chin and to his mouth.  
  
We kiss for a short time, his tail moving to wind around my forearm to encourage me as I feel myself growing more passionate, my control slipping as I stroke up his back, pulling away and panting lightly to calm myself. His cheeks are as flushed as mine are, and I can tell from the glittering in his eyes that he is satisfied with my answer, though I’m not quite sure if he thinks I am saying that I love him too much to deny, or whether he knows I mean to have sex with him right now. I open my mouth to ask, but he presses his finger to my lips.  
  
“I know what you mean.” He says softly, his voice seeming as shy as mine is as he just leans down and rests his head on my chest, his hands on it also, helping me to relax and stroke his hair as I lie back, looking at the ceiling. This feels kind of nice, like the afterglow of some really good sex without actually having had any. My hand gently massages his back, and I can almost feel him smile against my skin at the loving contact. I’m acting as if this is so familiar to me, like we’ve been lovers for years, already knowing where all the sensitive spots on his back are from stroking it so much and washing him. I already know where he likes to be touched, and where is forbidden, although… I look at his tail and resist the urge to stroke it as well. I’ve touched it once before…just once, when I unwound it from my leg, and the fur was so soft, so smooth, so addicting… I want to touch it again, I want to ruffle it and stroke every part, find where all the sensitive parts on it are and manipulate them so I can make him gasp and whimper…  
  
“Can I…touch your tail?” I ask, my voice quiet and low, hopefully low enough that he will not really hear me, or can just ignore the request if he doesn’t want me to. In response, I feel him tense a little, before he tilts his head to look at me properly, his tail waving behind him lightly, irresistible to my eyes. I love the beautiful russet hues in it and the way it moves…so sleek and smooth, snake-like, even, but so bewitching… As I look at it, I am reminded of the fact he is a clone, and I cannot help but tense up a bit too, still waiting for his response to my needy question. Does he know…? Maybe he does. I think back to my father’s journals, a line repeating itself to me.  
  
 _‘I think it will have all of his memories up to the point of taking the DNA…’_  
  
“Y-Yes…if only for a minute…” Vegeta finally replies, his cheeks a bit red. I am unsure whether it is because his tail is very sensitive or not, or whether it was because I asked if I could, or maybe he just doesn’t feel ready for me to touch it yet, but I have his permission to. Maybe I should, or maybe I shouldn’t… My hand has reached out anyway, barely a centimetre from the soft-looking fur and I _cannot_ help myself as I gently grasp it, the fur tickling my palm as I stroke it from near the end to the tip, feeling Vegeta quiver against me and rest a heated cheek to my chest. I open my hand and just brush it down to the base and I feel him tense up and tremble violently, knowing I should stop there, but not wanting to. I lightly massage the base and he cries out, gripping at my arms. “Stop, now, please!” I stop massaging, but leave my hand closed around the base gently, making him seem to tremble more. “U-Unless you intend to go further than a little kiss…stop…” I move my hand away and wrap my arm around his back, cuddling him closer in appreciation for letting me touch him there at all.  
  
“Okay…thank you…” I whisper, my face close to his ear, making him shiver more, before I realise just how seductive I am acting and squirm a little to try and stop it. My voice is still low, and from what I’ve noticed…his tail is _extremely_ sensitive, so petting it and whispering into his ear… My cheeks go pink. I wasn’t meaning to come onto him like that, and as he lifts his face to look at mine, I can see in his eyes that he knows I wasn’t trying to, but the realisation probably doesn’t help him as I feel something against my thigh, knowing exactly what it is and going red. “Ah…um…” I fumble around my mind for a distraction and come to what he remembers of his life, already curious of what he knows…if he remembers anything, that is. “So…how did you learn to talk again?” I ask, deciding to start small and build up to the clone thing.  
  
“What makes you think I could already talk?” He asks me, his eyebrow raised, making me nervous even though I know from the tone of his voice that he is merely playing with me. At my silence, he seems to just assume that I didn’t and continues. “Well, after hearing so much speech for a long time, I just knew that I could speak it too…after all, we aren’t so different, are we?” I keep my mouth shut. “I am sure that it was that girl you dated…hearing a woman’s voice made me want to be able to talk too…as she…” He looks away. “…As you liked her and she could talk…I mean…” He tried to explain, his voice barely higher than a whisper. However, something nags at me.  
  
“But Chichi could talk too…and you never tried to talk then…” I say, my eyes fixed on his face – even in profile, he is beautiful. “And I liked her.” He looks at me calmly.  
  
“I assumed you loved her, seeing as she was your wife.” Guilt crashes over me in waves. Yes, I thought I loved her at one point… “So, instead…I…tried to get rid of her.” My eyes widen slightly at the explanation. Why he attacked her…and glared at her…and crawled into our bed…  
  
“You were jealous of her?” I say, before I can stop myself, then cover my mouth with my hand, looking sideways at him, unsure of whether he will be angry or not. But his expression is one of amusement, and he moves my hand away, giving me a quick peck on the lips and laughing lightly. I’m not sure if I’m reassured though. After all, he _is_ laughing at me…  
  
“I just didn’t like her at the time.” He informs me, an amused smirk on his face as he leans forward as if to kiss me again. “Her voice annoyed me and she never did anything but yell at you.” His eyes glitter. “And I liked you, you were nice to me and didn’t say cruel things about me.” I look down, feeing stupid for assuming something so bizarre, but his hands lift my chin. “Maybe I was a bit jealous too.” This little confession makes me smile as he nuzzles my neck, somehow knowing that I’m not quite reassured of the situation at hand. “So I forced myself to talk properly because I assumed that was what you wanted.” I look at him quietly, truly unsure of what he knows now. He’s making it seem like he’s done all this for me, and for no one else…  
  
“W-What about coming into my room…why did you…?” I ask, unable to hold my tongue and refrain from asking so many questions, just wondering if he did that for me too, or whether it was for himself that he chose to try and seduce me.  
  
“I came into your room that night…because I saw you had chosen me over her, and I thought you wanted me, which you clearly showed…before you kicked me out, that is.” He said quietly, a look of pain in his beautiful sable eyes as he said the last part, another pang of guilt flaring through my heart. For me, again. “Though I had…desired to sleep with you long before…” He admits, his cheeks darker than usual. “I liked it, just the two of us, and I had thought that if we become lovers…I wouldn’t have to worry about you bringing more women here…” He looks up at me, into my eyes. “But there’s been a woman in here since then.” It’s somehow turned into him questioning me now… He grabs my injured arm by accident, probably thinking the bandage is some sort of clothing add-on and I wince, trying to get it out of his oddly strong grip.  
  
“Oww! Let go! Please!” I yelp, and he lets go quickly, looking confused as I flinch and lightly rub the bandage, biting my lip harshly. Holy fuck, that hurts. I try to get my arm away from him, but he grabs it again, this time grabbing my bicep, determined to see what it is. “…Please don’t look at it…” I say weakly, ashamed of it and how I acted, not stopping him as he starts to unravel the bandage, looking away and saying nothing, the shame eating me alive as I hear his horrified gasp.  
  
“…Kakarott…did you-?” He stops mid-sentence, obviously unable to finish it as he just stares at my wound, not even needing me to answer him. He knows what it is, he knows what I did…he should know why… I am not going to reply to him about this. I can’t. My own weakness is so pathetic and degrading…please Vegeta…don’t talk about it… “…You tried to kill yourself.” He says, his voice cold, confirming it to himself. “Did you not _care_ about me??” He slaps me across the face, and my head snaps to the side as I flinch more, trying not to tremble from the anger radiating from him. He doesn’t know how tough this has been for me as well… “How was killing yourself going to make everything okay??” He yells, just making me feel worse than before, my eyes closed in shame.  
  
“I-I realised I loved you, and you loved me…and that I didn’t deserve you…” I whisper softly, a single tear emerging from under my eyelid to run down my cheek, and I know he is staring at me; I can practically feel his gaze on my face. Suddenly, I feel him lick the tear away and open my teary eyes, wiping at them to see him clearly. There is a look of sadness on his face, genuine hurt, but I don’t know what to think. He hit me and yelled at me for being that upset because he locked himself away from me for so long. “You didn’t seem like you were ever going to leave, you didn’t even seem to care!” I say coldly, trying not to hurt him more, but feeling so hurt myself that I cannot help it. “I thought you wouldn’t want to see me again, because I hurt you so badly.” I’m trying to stay strong here; I know I should apologise to him for doing it, but he should apologise for slapping me first. His hands grab my face and he kisses me furiously, his tongue pushing through my lips as I just sit there, dumbfoundedly kissing back.  
  
“I-I’m sorry Kakarott…” He whispers after he has pulled back, kissing over my neck softly, causing me to shiver at his affectionateness, my hands lightly holding his waist, my wrist throbbing in pain as it comes into contact with his clothes. He notices me wince and lets go, gently moving my hand away. “Where is the first aid kit?” I pause.  
  
“Under the sink?” I guess, not even knowing if I have one, yet knowing that Bulma had to have bandaged my wrist somehow, watching him as he got up from the sofa and sauntered over to the sink. I can’t call it ‘walking’ because of the way his hips are moving, so sleekly and seductively swaying as he bends down, his tail lifting and fluffing and his ass… My entire face is blazing red when he finally gets back, and as he cleans and rebandages my arm, there is a little smile on his face, making me think he did it on purpose as his eyes flick down to my towel occasionally, his cheeks going pink. Crap. I blush darker and smile goofily as I try not to look, knowing what is down there, coughing quietly to myself until I am bandaged again. “T-Thanks…” He nods and stands, obviously going to put it back, but I fear that I won’t be able to control myself if I see that again and grasp his wrist, pulling him back onto the sofa with me.  
  
“Kakarott!” He gasps as I pull him down, the worst possible place for him to end up sitting being where his firm ass lands, my face turning into a beacon as he gets the wrong idea and looks over his shoulder at me, his face scarlet. “I, um, see you want…uh…” My face feels like it is burning, and I close my eyes, letting go of his hand, trying not to concentrate on the warm pressure against my arousal and swallow.  
  
“I-I just want to cuddle!” I exclaim, mortified at my bad luck. This can’t be a good sign if it’s happening already…something even worse might happen before this relationship starts properly… I know that Vegeta is as embarrassed as I am, and I feel him turn around and move to lie on my chest, his legs against the sofa, safely. I feel like an idiotic teenager having his first erection around a girl and I can’t help but feel embarrassed. We both actually _want_ to have sex, but I’m holding back. Technically, Vegeta is only four years old… I shudder at the information and look at his upsweep of hair, biting my lip. “…How old are you, Vegeta?” There’s an awkward silence, before he finally answers me.  
  
“…Twenty-seven.” It’s understandable that he’s older than me. I mean, he was a professional scientist when I was eighteen, so he had at least have had to have been in his early or mid-twenties by then. I think about our age difference for a little while, letting the silence hang in the air, then look back down at him, seeing him looking at my face. His eyes meet mine. “I don’t know your age.” I smile nervously.  
  
“I’m twenty-two.” There’s a look of shock on his face as he looks over me a few more times, making me feel nervous and edgy before he looks back at my face.  
  
“I was almost certain you were twenty-five at least…” He says quietly, obviously unnerved by his small misjudgement. I feel sad for him then, because it’s not a huge age difference, but it is like a fifth of my life has suddenly disappeared, and it seems huge because of that. I gently take his hand in mine.  
  
“Does it really matter?” His dark orbs look up at me and I try a smile, but he doesn’t smile back, looking blank. “It’s only five years, it’s not such a big difference…right?” I get no response and become worried. “Vegeta?”  
  
“And you have no job?” He cuts in, ignoring my questions pointedly, his eyes seeming somehow cold. I’m not sure how to reply…he should know that I have no job by now…he’s been living with me long enough to know… “Where does your money to pay for bills come from? How have we been living??” I really don’t like that he is questioning me so much on this…it’s making me incredibly nervous as I sit up, looking at the television, though it is turned off at the moment.  
  
“I live off the money I inherited from my father’s funeral.” I say quietly, not wanting to say any more on the subject, hoping my tone says enough to him to make him stop questioning me like this. I should start questioning him back, but I don’t want there to be a possibility of another argument with him, and somehow, I feel he should need to know how we’ve been living for so long. He gives me a look that says to say more and I sigh, continuing. “In his will, I also got his company. But the problem was that it was failing.” He seems to look more interested and sits closer to me, looking cute even though I know he is about to ask more questions that will upset me. But appearances are deceiving. “So I sold it to my oldest friend, Bulma, who was here a few days ago; the woman that looked after me when…” I fall silent for a moment, and he rests his hand on my uninjured arm, gently squeezing comfortingly, and, funnily enough, it helps. “With her help, it’s now the biggest company around, worth billions.”  
  
“What company is it?” He asks, seeming even more interested than before, and I know now that what I am about to say will shock him. After all, he did work there…he died there, and was born there too.  
  
“Capsule Corp.” I say simply, turning my full attention to him as his face pales somewhat. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I gently pull him onto my lap and stroke his hair with care, knowing he is confused, his body shaking, making me pull him closer protectively.  
  
“B-Bardock’s…dead?” His voice is so quiet as he grabs at my hands, trembling more. I think he is about to faint, his expression worrying me, so I pull his face to mine and kiss him, pushing air into his lungs, which he chokes out, pulling away from me in shock. “Y-You’re his son??” I nod quietly, resting my chin in my hand as he trembles, standing on the carpet by himself. I give him a few moments to calm down and sigh lightly.  
  
“I know that you used to work with him.” He tenses visibly and his tail fluffs up madly, the look in his eyes telling me that he is about to run away as I get to my feet and grasp his arms. “Vegeta, I know about the experiments, I know about the capsulation…I know…about you…and I love you…” I pull him to my chest, giving him no way to escape and breathe in the scent of his hair. “Everything’s okay.”  
  
“W-What about Vegeta?” He whispers quietly, his arms clutching at my waist. I need to tell him the full truth.  
  
“He died in the experiment you were created for.” I tighten my arms around him as I say it, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. I’m secretly glad he was impatient…because it made ’Geta able to live… He feels heavier in my arms.  
  
“I think I’m going to throw up.” He whimpers, his voice so low I could barely hear him say it at all. Lovingly, I pick him up and begin to carry him to the bathroom just in case.   
  
He may need to rest after this…


	6. Chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.)) The ‘put your socks on’ is not mine, it is © GogetaJr, I just borrowed it(with permission) because it’s funny! I also don’t own the Flora Company, or the Pussycat dolls, although that’d be nice… (rubs chin) I don’t own the Resolve Company either, though I do have a box of them in my cupboard, lol.
> 
> Chapter rating: PG-13

I watch ’Geta sleeping on my double bed from the side, my heart pounding in my chest as I see how pale he looks compared to a few minutes ago and it truly makes me wonder if I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have known he wasn’t ready to know that I knew, and I should have waited til much later when our relationship would have been more stable to even begin hinting at it. It’s clear that the subject was already a sensitive one with him before I told him… His expression twists into one of fear as he starts thrashing on my bed and I cannot help but grab his arms and shake him awake, even though I know he needs the rest after throwing up so badly.  
  
“’Geta!!” I yell, pulling him from the sheets and into my arms, nuzzling his neck when I see his eyes open, relieved that he is awake again. “Are you alright?” I ask, stroking his cheek softly as his dark eyes just look into mine, feeling unnerved and unsettled as he merely nods at me, trying to break away, his tail fluffed up, but I don’t know why. “Please…what’s wrong?” My hands pull him even closer, despite the look of protest on his face, but he doesn’t say a word, still pushing me, trying to make me let go. Fear grips my heart at his silence as much as his reluctance to be near me and I desperately cling to him, not wanting to let go of him until I know that everything is okay. “Talk to me!” I demand, pulling him closer, then pinning him on the bed, my mind barely registering that this is an arousing position for me as I restrain his hands together over his head and trap his legs under mine. However, it is obvious to me that he has noticed, a look of anger and embarrassment on his once gentle and happy features, making me want to bear my teeth at him. “Talk.”  
  
“What am I meant to say??” He hisses, squirming violently before I let go and sit back, giving him his space to do whatever he wants, only having wanted him to speak to me, having previously lost my towel somewhere along the way and having no other clothes on. I frown to myself as he doesn’t move from the position I had him in, staying still, his eyes now much calmer though it could be fear keeping him there. I try to think of what it is he could say to me, before I spot that he is aroused also, the lycra shorts he is wearing not hiding it at all, much like my state of undress. His eyes look over me and I feel oddly scrutinised as his tail fluffs up again and he moves his eyes to gaze upon my face, our gazes locked.  
  
“I’m only worried about you…” I say, saddened by his sudden mistrust of me – or that is how it feels – as I gently move off my bed and go to wardrobe to pick _something_ to wear, to stop him thinking I am about to jump him, if nothing else. I look through all my t-shirts quietly, hearing him moving around behind me, choosing to look for boxers instead, about to move to my draws and crouch down when I feel his hands on my torso, his chest pressed against my back – horrifyingly arousingly – his tail coiling my thigh again, making me swallow softly, nervous as he nuzzles my shoulder, being too short to rest his head on my shoulder like I somehow feel that he planned to. I look back at him to see my bed made neatly and his shirt on the floor, noticing that it has a rather disgusting sick stain on it from when he was throwing up earlier, then at his face to see him looking playful, yet happily at me, giving me a feeling of hope again as he starts licking at my shoulder, my body tensing up. “Vegeta?”  
  
“Mmm…Kakarott…” He purrs softly, pressing up against my back even more, stroking over my chest with soft touches, causing me to swallow loudly as I realise that I hadn’t even tried to pull away from him yet. What is it about him that makes me lose control? I turn in his grasp and grin at him, my hands grabbing his firm ass as I lift him off the floor and crush our lips together heatedly, feeling his hands grasping at my chest, unable to grab a hold on any part of me, his tongue pushing hard against mine as I stagger to the bed and drop onto it, pinning him under me again. He pulls back from my lips and lets out a soft moan as I begin to attack his neck in kisses and nips, my name just sounding so good on his tongue. “Kakarott…uhn…” My erection throbs with want as I look upon his gorgeous body, wanting to kiss every inch of his perfect tan skin, but restraining myself, my cheeks red from my seemingly never-ending lack of control around him. I really wish I knew what it was about him that made me lose my self-control…but I guess I never will…  
  
“Are you hungry?” I ask, moving back over to get dressed properly, trying to ignore just how irresistible he is and focus on something else, as it isn’t even three in the afternoon and there is still a lot we need to talk about. I hear him sit up, and I can practically taste his anger at me leaving him there so abruptly, so I turn to him and smile gently, pulling on my boxers. All I get is a cold sort of look, and he moves over, grabbing my wrists, aggravating my knife-wound horribly as he leans forward, trying to kiss me again. But this time, I actually manage to control myself, and grit my teeth at the pain as I twist my arms to grasp his, gently moving him away. “I’m not ready…”  
  
He sighs, but doesn’t push me further as I continue to get dressed, feeling like I am safer around him when I am clothed, only to turn around to find him gone, and his soiled shirt missing from my floor, sighing gently myself as I move from my bedroom, looking for him. I will probably get the cold shoulder for a little while, but I really am not ready…I mean, sex…well…it’s rather, uh, nice, but I don’t want to just have sex with him. I don’t think he knows just how much I care for him, and that hurts me. He needs to know…  
  
I spot him laying on the sofa, completely naked, the soft flesh making my eyes widen as I look at him, my cheeks flushing at the look of confidence on his face. He just doesn’t seem to care either… Dammit, what does a guy have to do to _not_ get laid?! I walk over and drink in the view, knowing he is watching my face for any indication of desire, probably so that he can take advantage of it and get what he wants from me, but I will not let him.  
  
“Like what you see?” He purrs, making me grin lopsidedly and nod gently, him beckoning me over with his index finger, my eyes darkening with lust as I move to crouch next to the settee, our faces level as he pulls me into a hot kiss, his tongue licking at my lips shyly, even though he is the one who initiated this. I rest my hand on the curve of his hips and press closer to him, his hands grabbing my shirt and using it as leverage to pull me even closer, moaning into my mouth softly. Damn, I’m going to just grab him and pull him onto my lap in a minute… I pull back, panting, his flushed face under mine making me feel guilty as he looks lustily at me, hope and desire showing in his gaze as his hand strokes my cheek. “When will you be ready?” My cheeks flare a dark red.  
  
“I don’t know…” I say, looking down apologetically. The thing is; I think I’m ready now, but I don’t think we should… “Soon…maybe…” He looks up at me, then sits up, stroking my cheek even more, moving a pillow to cover his nakedness, a part of me disappointed and saddened by that. “I think we need to talk more…that’s all…” Blinking, he moves so that we can both sit on the sofa together, and I sit next to him, smiling. “…So…why did you become a scientist anyway…? You don’t, ah, seem very sciency…” Laughing softly, he cuddles up to my chest.  
  
“Well…my father was a scientist too…you may have heard of him. They used to call him ‘King Vegeta’ sometimes…” ’Geta says, his voice soft as he remembers. “He always told me that I should make him proud, he always told me to become the best scientist in the world so I could be rich and happy.” He looks at me and I nod, urging him to continue. “So I did it…but it didn’t so much make me happy when everybody at Capsule Corp wasn’t being ambitious enough. ‘Let’s capsulate groceries!’ ‘Let’s capsulate clothes shopping!’ Yes, good ideas, but just not bold enough to make the company the best! If another company figured out the capsules, then they would capsulate bigger things to take our market!” I could see just from this small bit of information how passionate he was about science, and somehow, I could almost feel it. He looked at me quietly. “So now you know.”  
  
I nod and hug him closer, quite happy to rest my hands on his back and stroke down to the curve of his ass, his gasp into my ear causing me to shudder, pulling back to look him in the eyes. He is so beautiful, his brown eyes seeming to enchant me as I lean forward, brushing our lips together, his hands grabbing at me nervously, the pillow being knocked from his lap and onto the floor. I can feel him trembling next to me and can’t help but press our lips together, pulling him onto my lap as I touch him, loving the feeling of a mouth panting into mine. I’m so lucky that he wants me, I haven’t really thought about or said that yet, but I am. I know I’m confusing him; by saying I don’t want sex, and acting like I want it now, but I can’t really stop myself.  
  
Pulling back, I see a look of disappointment on his face, though there is a glint of relief in his eyes and I understand why. He wants sex, but I think I have to be more forward about it so that he knows what I want, or at least take it somewhere more private and comfortable before doing something. I smile.  
  
“Shall we go out somewhere to eat?” I ask, and he nods weakly, seemingly shy as he picks the pillow off the floor. Smirking a little, I scoop him into my arms in the way that a groom would carry a bride over a threshold and take him to his room, laying him upon the bed carefully, stroking his hair. “…I’ll leave you to pick your own clothes…” Turning, I leave the room and enter my own, getting dressed in my scruffiest pair of jeans – the ones with the holes in the knees and the battered bottoms – and pull on one of my button-up shirts. Putting on my trainers, I wonder whether I should buy him his own clothes again, and let him choose what he wants. But I suppose he would tell me if he was unhappy with what he had, right? The door opens and I turn around, seeing him standing in all black, his tail waving behind him. “I’ll just be a second…” I say, then tie my laces and get up, moving over.  
  
“I’m ready…” He says, pulling at the Lycra shorts in what seems to be nervousness. I sigh. He really does need new clothes…  
  
“Let’s go then…” I grasp his hand and my wallet and we exit to the car, before I curse and run back to lock the door, feeling stupid when I get back and climb in. The string I stapled to the roof of my car is dangling in front of his face, and I can see the desire to play with it in is eyes, though I know he won’t do so. Putting my seatbelt on, I turn the key in the ignition and we are off.  
  
I’m not quite sure where to take him though, and, because of this, I have to drive around the roundabout a few times before picking a direction. ’Geta, however, doesn’t seem to notice, his eyes fixed on the white string. Looking over at him for a second, I realise just how much I miss those cat ears I gave him. Sure, it could be seen as something pervy and sexual, but there was something about those that I liked, though I cannot put my finger on it.  
  
I finally decide to check out an old pub that Chichi and I used to go to quite often, called ‘The Strawberry’ or something like that. It had good food and a good atmosphere, so he will like it, or, at least that’s what I’m hoping. As I park the car, I see ’Geta sitting up straight, no longer looking at the string, his eyes looking over the large building.  
  
“…They do fish here, right?” Is all he says, and I nod, getting out of the car and waiting for him. But it seems he doesn’t like the look of the building or something, and he hasn’t gotten out yet, so I go around and open the door, unbuckling him and offering my hand.  
  
“They do great fish here…” I say quietly, not sure what he is thinking. And I’m not sure I want to. His hand finally grasps mine and I pull him out, closing his door and locking the car with the button on my keys, holding his hand as we walk through the doors of the restaurant, waiting at the counter to be seated. After a few moments, a waitress arrives, and, after looking over me and ’Geta a few times, she gives a shaky smile.  
  
“I have to talk to the manager…” She insists, then walks away, leaving us to blink. That’s very rude of her, actually. Why is she going to talk to the manager? Is it because we are both men and I’m holding his hand? I frown. If that’s the case, I think I’ll take them to court if they don’t let us in… ’Geta looks over at me, noticing how I had clenched my hand tighter to his as the girl had left, but I continue to look forwards, angry that she would even dare to get the manager in the first place.  
  
After what seems like an eternity, the girl comes back, another person with her who I don’t quite recognise until she is behind the counter, a glare on Chichi’s face as she looks at us, then to where I am holding his hand, scowling.  
  
“Kakarott.” A man comes from around the corner – the previous owner of the pub – and he puts his arm around my ex-wife’s shoulders, making me grit my teeth and look at them both. “What are _you_ doing here?” Chichi growls at me, and I know coming here has been a mistake.  
  
“Can’t I go to pubs anymore?” I say testily, not in the mood for her to make a scene, even if it appears that it is now her restaurant too. “I thought I’d treat my boyfriend to a meal, is that a problem?” I’m deliberately trying to piss her off now. How dare she treat me like shit after she walked out on _me_? I didn’t kick her out or anything, and she’s probably happier here than she was with me. What the hell is her problem?  
  
Her eyes narrow as the owner gives me a disgusted look.  
  
“You’re not welcome here.” He grunts, pulling her closer to his side. “You mistreated her for… _that thing_ you’re touching!” My eye twitches as I get defensive, pulling ’Geta closer to myself, glaring.  
  
“He’s a person, you dimwitted-” I am cut off as ’Geta gently presses his fingers to my lips, turning his back to them, his chocolate gaze only on me.  
  
“It isn’t worth it Kakarott. Let’s go somewhere else, somewhere nicer.” He says gently, then kisses my cheek. “It doesn’t look very clean here any-” He stops mid-sentence and his face pales before he yells in pain, sinking to his knees, Chichi having moved over and grabbed his tail, pulling on it harshly. The look of pain on his face causes me to lose my temper and I lash out, my fist connecting with the side of Chichi’s head, forcing her to let go as she falls over, clutching her face and yelling herself.  
  
“ _Don’t you_ dare _touch my ’Geta_!” I scream at her, then pick him up from the floor, holding him in my arms. Looking at his face, I see he has passed out, and I snarl. “You hateful _bitch_! What did he do to you?!” Through this, the man has just stood there, before his eyes widen and he moves forward, about to lash back out at me. I just stand there, my eyes narrowed, obviously looking ready to kill as the waitress grabs his arm, shaking.  
  
“L-Let him be, just ban him and leave it…” She says quietly, pressing up to his arm in a sexual manner while Chichi is on the floor, too preoccupied with her face to notice. I smirk.  
  
“Congratulations on your new husband, Chichi.” I mock, finally seeing the matching silver bands on their fingers. “Shame he’s dating waitresses behind your back!” She looks over and cries more when she sees the waitress cuddled up to him like that and I growl, turning and exiting the place, unimpressed as I climb back into my car. I look over at Vegeta and get nervous at his lack of movement, trembling as I buckle him into the passenger seat and drive towards the nearest hospital. He doesn’t look so good…  
  
I cannot help my nervous feeling as I drive a bit faster, then faster still. I don’t know what’s wrong, and it scares me. He looks half-dead in the seat and I can’t bear it. Putting my foot down, I speed towards the hospital, probably breaking the speed limit by half as I screech to a halt, not even bothering to get a space as I stop in front of the hospital and pull the keys from the ignition, running to get ’Geta from his seat and take him inside.  
  
I don’t even lock my car.  
  
He’s so limp, too limp, and I carry him to the front desk, tears in my eyes as I look at the nurse who is on the phone, hoping to God that she will hurry up so that she can help him. One look at me and she puts the phone down, getting up, her eyes wide.  
  
“What’s happened?!” She asks, reaching to touch him, but I move back and swallow.  
  
“Please…I need a doctor for him…” Snapping out of her shock, she grabs a pager, typing in a code and other things. She finally finishes and points to a chair, but I can’t sit down right now. I’m so worried…  
  
It seems like forever before a doctor finally arrives, making me feel like one will never get here before the doctor asks me to follow them, running down the corridor and giving me no chance but to follow. Nervous, I can’t help but notice we’re going a long way, worried for ’Geta’s safety and well-being. We arrive in a room and he motions to a bed, telling me to lay Vegeta on it, but I don’t want to. I’m too scared to let go.  
  
“Do you want me to find out what’s wrong or not?!” The doctor yells, and I have no choice but to lay him down, smoothing a strand of hair from his face, before being ushered out of the room by a nurse, my eyes watering as I have to sit in the waiting room, just a mass of nerves.  
  
I can’t watch the time, I don’t want to know how long he has been in there, so I look at the floor and pace around, wanting to hit something. If he’s badly injured, I’m going to hunt down that bitch and fucking finish her off!  
  
Realising what I just said, I scold myself, sitting down and burying my head in my hands. Hours later, it seems, the doctor and nurses come out of the room, all looking grim, the doctor pale.  
  
“D-Do you know what’s wrong?” I gasp, my voice thick. They all look between themselves before looking at me.  
  
“I’m afraid he doesn’t have very long to live…”


	7. Chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.)) The ‘put your socks on’ is not mine, it is © GogetaJr, I just borrowed it(with permission) because it’s funny! I also don’t own the Flora Company, or the Pussycat dolls, although that’d be nice… (rubs chin) I don’t own the Resolve Company either, though I do have a box of them in my cupboard, lol.
> 
> Chapter rating: NC-17

I can’t think after they said that. He can’t be dying…she just pulled his tail…there’s no way that that causes death…no! I grit my teeth and stare at the floor, wanting to see him, but knowing there is little point as he isn’t going to be awake yet. They haven’t even told me what’s wrong! They are supposed to by now! I look up and notice the nurse has gently grasped my hand, leading me into the room with the doctor, seeing his prone form on the bed and biting my lip harshly as they lead me to a seat, my eyes fixed on his body.  
  
“I don’t know quite how to say this…” The doctor says, a nervous tone in her voice as she takes my hand, squeezing it. “But…it seems as though his molecular structure is failing…” I swallow. “His cells are dying so quickly that he has a few weeks at most…and at least, he has five days.” Giving me a nervous look, she continues. “Is there something you need to tell us about him?” I stay silent. There is nothing that they need to know about him. He is a clone, but that changes nothing. He’s dying. At my silence, the doctor gives me a soft gaze. “We’ll have to keep him overnight to get a better idea of how fast his cells are dying…it will give a better time scale…” I feel sick as I shake my head, anger overriding rational thought.  
  
“No! I want to take him home!” I get to my feet, but the doctor grabs my arm.  
  
“Sir! Think about what is best for him!” Tearing my arm from her grip, I twist around, feeling ready to kill anyone who comes between me and my ’Geta. I refuse to let him go now.  
  
“Don’t you touch me!” I snarl, then move towards the bed, picking him up and moving to exit the room, but she gets in my way, the nurse dialling a number on the phone. “Get out of my way!” I demand, angry. “If there’s nothing you can do for him, at least he can be home!” I hear the nurse put the phone down, and the doctor and her share a glance, before the doctor moves out of my way, looking down.  
  
“If that is what you feel is best for him…” I nod and move out of the room, closing the door after me without even saying thank you. I am not in the mood for pleasantries; the person I love is dying, just like all the others. Before anyone who sees me can come and question what I’m doing, I run out of the hospital, clutching ’Geta to my chest tightly. Why does he have to die?? I skid over to my car and buckle him in again, getting into my own seat quickly, not buckling as I speed home, uncaring of whether I get in a crash or get caught by the police.  
  
I keep glancing over at him as I drive, mentally begging him to wake up; say something to me, move…anything…but he doesn’t, just laying there as limp as he was when I put him in, my heart beating a mile a minute as I finally reach our home, getting out and getting him out as well. The sky decides to rain and I shudder as I feel the cool spray hit my body, looking down to see it on ’Geta’s face, pulling him closer to me as I run towards my house, fumbling with the keys, water on my face, whether it is tears or rain I am not sure.  
  
Finally, I unlock the door and stumble in, moving to lay him on the settee as I go to close the door behind us. I turn around after doing so to just stare at him, not saying a word. Is there even anything to say? Could he hear me if I said something?  
  
…I can’t believe he’s dying…  
  
This has to be a dream, there’s no other explanation. He can’t die now, not like this. Not before I tell him how I feel, not before I have sex with him, not before I give him everything he wants and more…  
  
No!  
  
I feel broken as I look at him, and slowly move over to kneel next to him and hold his hand.  
  
Please ’Geta…please don’t die…  
  
I press my face against his shoulder, gritting my teeth to fight the broken cry that wanted to escape my mouth; the cry of pain, of loss, helplessness. There is nothing I can do, and I know it. All I can do is pray.  
  
Please…for me…stay…  
  
I don’t know how much time has passed before I move my face from his shoulder, a dampness on his clothes and skin indicating that the wetness on my face were tears of despair. I have long since dried up, and yet I can feel the tears as they fall down my cheeks, swallowing to myself. The feeling of helplessness is tearing me apart; the knowledge that there is literally nothing I can do for him only fuelling the fire of self-hatred that I can feel building.  
  
He had been looking a bit ill more and more as time passed, but I never thought to think about it, or take much notice. It was just a paling of the skin and a tired look…but I would have expected that from the recent…turn of events, you could say. But it isn’t good enough. This doesn’t feel right.  
  
It’s not supposed to be like this.  
  
People don’t fall in love, then lose it almost immediately! It’s not right!  
  
‘True love conquers all’ they say. I don’t see it happening here. But I do love him, I know I do…I can’t say this feeling as anything else…nothing else comes close to how I feel…  
  
Biting my lip, I am left at a loss of what to do. I want to wake him up, but I don’t know how.  
  
He looks so peaceful in his sleep, but he is pale…oh so very pale…  
  
My hand finds it’s way to his forehead and brushes away stray strands of hair from his face, feeling the coolness of his skin, causing my own face to ashen.  
  
He’s not…he hasn’t…  
  
“’GETA??” The yell from my throat is involuntary as I shake his shoulders, my eyes wide as I haven’t the sense to check for a pulse or if he is breathing, panic having overtaken my heart as my mind had connected the coolness and pale skin to death. “’Geta!! ’Geta!!!” Finally, my frenzied efforts pay off as his eyes slowly open, taking in my face and the room as his hand moves to shield his eyes from the glaring light behind me.  
  
Oh ’Geta…  
  
Relief crashes through me and I yank him to my chest, burying my face back into his shoulder, unaware that my force may hurt him as I kiss at his neck and cling to him, muttering nonsensically about how glad I am to know he’s alive and how worried I was before I feel how tense he is. Pulling back, I look into his brown gaze, seeing the look of a man who doesn’t quite know what is going on, and I am sure my expression softens.  
  
“…How did we get here?” He questions, looking nervously around. “The last thing I remember was me saying that the restaurant we were in wasn’t clean…then a lot of pain…” I have the urge to pull him to my chest and never let him go, but instead, I let go, not sure if he is alright…I did grab him pretty hard…  
  
“You passed out.” I said quietly, not knowing whether to tell him what’s happening to him or not, even though he does need to know… “…My ex wife grabbed and pulled your tail and you collapsed…” Silence reigned between us for a while, then I spoke again. “I scooped you up and took you to the doctors…” I feel like my throat has closed up; I can’t say any more. I don’t want to say it to him…that would be admitting it were real… His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that unnerves me. He knows I have more to say, he knows that it is something important, and he looks determined to get it out of me. Short of lying, there is nothing I can say… His abused tail coils my wrist, and his hand rests on the side of my face, the gaze changing to an imploring look, my heart beating faster in my chest as I stare at him. He’s so beautiful, so loving and caring…  
  
“…What did they say?” Confused, I tilt my head. What…?  
  
“Who…?” Vegeta blinks.  
  
“The doctors…what did they say?” A wave of self-loathing creeps over me for a minute. He must think I’m so stupid right now…  
  
“Uhm…they said…” I fidget. I don’t want to tell him he’s going to die… “…They said…” Giving up, I pull him to my chest, pressing our lips together harshly, trying to make him forget what he is asking me and give in to my affection for him, the look of shock in his eyes only making me close my own and pull him closer, feeling my thigh between his own and growling softly to myself. Is this _really_ how I want to have sex with him for the first time?? Is it?! Covering up something so important?  
  
I barely notice my body’s movements as I struggle with my conscience over what I am doing until I feel myself kissing down his belly, hearing gasps and weak mewls coming from him and freeze, my cheeks suddenly going scarlet as I pull away, shaking as my eyes trail over his needy body, from his feet to his face. Panting, flushed, a strand of hair over his forehead that shouldn’t be there, his eyes slowly opening, looking curious…  
  
Gorgeous.  
  
“Ka…Kakarott…” He pants, turning his face to the side, exposing a deep red mark that undoubtedly I left on his skin, his body trembling under me in want. “Please…” Crawling over him, I kiss his lips softly, then turn to plant kisses over his face. I’m shocked when he gently pushes at my shoulders, shaking his head. “Tell me what they said Kakarott…” The excited, flushed look is still on his face, making me want to kiss him, but I pull back and sit up, swallowing, unsure of how to break the news.  
  
“They said…” I pause. His eyes bore into mine accusingly, as if I am the cause of what is wrong, making me tear my gaze away and look down. “T-They said you’re dying…” The silence seems to last forever, before I look at his face, a bewildered expression upon it. I continue. “They think you have five days left…at the very minimum…” I’m not sure how he manages to keep looking calm, the confusion disappearing slowly as it sinks in. I see him swallow, but he doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. We just stare at each other.  
  
I don’t think there is anything _to_ say.  
  
Slowly, he manages to sit up, resting his chin on his clasped-together hands, not looking at me. I’m kneeling on the sofa, leant a little over him as I try to look at his face, nervous and worried that he will think the truth of me; that I am a coward, that I was only so willing to have sex now because he is dying…that it was a kind of distraction… This silence is killing me, but I let it be, wait for him to say something, anything to let me know that he is not mad, that he doesn’t mind…  
  
Wordlessly, he leans forward, kissing me, both of his hands resting on my cheeks as he sighs into my mouth, leaving me unsure. He seems really upset… I don’t know… Gasping, I find myself underneath him, his body crouched directly over my hips, a shiver rushing through me as his hands find the buttons on my shirt, undoing them slowly, fingertips trailing on my bared skin. I just look up at him pitifully, not sure whether this is what he wants, or whether he is doing this for the same reasons I was a few moments ago…  
  
Looking up into dark eyes, I touch his bare chest, my arm accidentally blocking of his undoing of my buttons, a look of confusion on his face as he tries to nudge my hand away, obviously intent on what he is doing. With a sigh of my own, I willingly move my hand away, letting him do as he pleases. He deserves that, if nothing else. His hands reach the waistband of my jeans and I gasp, face heating as he pulls my shirt out of them and finishes unbuttoning, the determination in his eyes making me nervous.  
  
“Kakarott…” His voice comes out as a purr as he licks my neck, a shyness that I’m not sure I’ve ever had before making me keep my stillness and moan softly.  
  
“…Vegeta…” Trembling, he pulls back and looks at me, studying my face in a careful way. I blush. “…Are you sure that…this is what you want? Right now…?” I get no reply. “Because we don’t have to…I love you…if we’re not ready, we’ll figure it out…don’t feel pressured…don’t force yourself…” I see tears building in his eyes and instantly fear I’ve said something wrong, sitting up, cradling him to my chest. “I’m sorry…it’s okay…”  
  
“…Why do you keep pushing me away?” He whispers, his voice muffled, sounding hurt. I blink, confused. I’m not pushing him away at all… “Every time I try to get close…you just make an excuse or move away from me…why…what have I done to deserve this…?” Staying silent, I stroke his hair. I don’t know why he’s so upset…every time I have moved away, it has been because I don’t know what he wants, what’s best for him…how can he not know that?  
  
“Vegeta…” I begin, but he cuts me off, tilting his head up and pressing his lips to mine harshly. I gasp as he grabs at my shoulders, then give in and press against him, slowly forcing him to lay back on the settee, my hands wandering over his exposed skin, making him gasp into my mouth and loop his arms around my neck. To my surprise, he lifts his legs and grasps my waist with them, grinding his hips against mine, my own pressing back eagerly, heat rising in my cheeks as I pull back from his mouth, panting. “I won’t push you away this time…if you can tell me honestly that this is what you want…” I whisper, my voice sounding so gentle… He looks up at me, trust gleaming in his eyes as he nods his head, pressing closer, his lips an inch away from mine.  
  
“Yes…I want this…” He says quietly, his voice as soft as mine. We both move, and our lips connect, both of us grabbing at the other, his hands in my hair, my hands around his waist as we allow ourselves to sink into the settee. Suddenly, I pull back, my cheeks heated as I smile at him, moving to lift him onto my lap as I sit up, looking up at his face from my new viewpoint and leaning to kiss along his chest carefully. I cannot say that this is an easy task, or even that I know what I am doing, as this is so new that I feel nervous, but I try my best. He looks down at me, and I can’t help but blush a little; he looks like a Prince like this…so gorgeous and strong… My heart pangs as my head reminds me that he is actually getting weaker, but I push that thought away, not wanting to think of it as I move up to kiss his lips, a firm response making me groan into his mouth. Shyly, he pulls back. “I think we should take this somewhere…more private.”  
  
Smiling, I agree, lifting him from my lap and into my arms, kissing him still as I make my way towards my bedroom. His hands hold firmly around my neck as we enter the room, feeling an urge to pin him to the bed, instead gently crawling onto it and laying him underneath me, giving him space to move if he needs it. Leaning down to kiss him, I see tears in his eyes and freeze, my own eyes widening as he grabs at my neck, trying to pull me down, but I cannot move, his tears wracking my confidence. He doesn’t look happy; he doesn’t look like he wants to do this…  
  
What am I doing?!  
  
I pull away again, covering my mouth with my hands as I realise that I’m taking advantage of him again…in his moment of weakness…he…I just told him he’s dying…I can’t…!  
  
“Oh God, I’m so sorry Vegeta…” I gasp, trying to pull back, startled as he moves forward, pulling me down at the same time.  
  
“Hush.” Face flushed, yet still a little sorrowful, he presses his lips to mine, and I give in. He does want this…I want this…the situation may not be ideal, but if we aren’t quick enough, then there may be no situation left at all…at the moment, even this situation is good enough… I stray my hands to his chest again and stroke it gently, moving my lips to kiss his neck, taking it slow. His hands push at my arms and I freeze, unsure of what he is doing as they start trying to pull my shirt from my arms. “Don’t stop…” He begs, his voice barely a whimper, making me feel bad. I _did_ promise not to push him away… Moving my arms back, I allow him to remove the shirt before I lean down, continuing to kiss his neck, a soft moan spilling from his lips. “Mmm…yes…” My hands trace over every inch of his exposed skin and I cannot help a shiver as he arches up into the touch, his eyes closed as he breathes a gentle sigh. A smile comes to my lips, which I find odd, but it doesn’t particularly bother me as I lean down to worship his chest with kisses. I feel his hand tangle into my hair and I moan into his skin at the touch, licking downwards, the fingers twitching a little every time I get lower, noticing his breaths becoming more ragged and – possibly just my imagination – nervous as I keep going along my journey.  
  
Pulling back, I hear a disappointed moan, though I detect a faint sigh of relief as I rake my eyes over his body yet again, my gaze settling on the black shorts – and the bulge within them, my face heating unbearably. I move to look at his face, the arousal within me burning like an inferno as I see his eyes open as slits, the red in his face just fuelling my desire. Gathering my confidence, I place my hand over his crotch, earning a gasp and a widening of his gorgeous eyes, causing me to rub at it enthusiastically, watching as he puts a hand to his mouth to block his cries. For some reason, this action just encourages me, my hands gripping the shorts and tugging them down a bit, waiting for him to consent or refuse; I would rather do this at a pace that suits him. To my delight, he lifts his hips, allowing me to tug them down to his knees, before I stop, my face heating as I look at his erection.  
  
He shifts his hips, drawing my attention back up to his face, finding an embarrassed expression on it, as if he didn’t want me to look. Feeling a bit guilty, I look back down and continue to remove the shorts, surprised at how he is helping me to remove the items as quickly as possible, seeing as he seems self-conscious about his body. Unable to stop a feeling of pride, I look over his body carefully, making sure to be careful that he doesn’t notice too much; he is letting me do as I please to him, and if he is so embarrassed, he is putting a lot of trust into me. Looking him over again, I don’t see why he’d be so ashamed of having such a sexy physique, but I let it pass; there are things about my body that I don’t like either, and I have been told it’s not bad at all.  
  
Either I am taking too long, or he is getting bored of staying still, but he leans up, his hand touching my face, causing me to blink and look at his face, just in time for him to press his lips to mine again. Moaning, I feel him putting pressure against me, slowly moving back to allow him to sit up if that’s what he wants, finding myself pushed down onto my back, my eyes widening as he straddles my stomach and strokes his hands down my neck. Swallowing, I don’t say a word, letting him do as he chooses, my eyes unable to stay on his face for very long as they trail down…  
  
He laughs when he notices that I can’t keep my eyes from wandering, and though I can tell he is nervous, he also seems amused. I flicker my eyes to look at his face again, seeing him shake his head softly in mock disapproval, my cheeks heating more than they had been previously. I still haven’t said anything since he told me to be quiet, aware that since he requested it, I haven’t been able to really talk myself out of this, though maybe it is just that I feel more comfortable with the idea now.  
  
Deftly, he turns around completely, his gorgeous back facing me as he seems preoccupied with my jeans, making my face heat as I stare at his ass, knowing full well he is staring at the bulge in the denim. Despite the fact that I want to touch him, I keep my hands to myself, not wanting to throw him off what he is going to do or embarrass him. I tense when his palm presses to the crotch of my jeans, doing my very best not to buck up into it, biting my lip. The pressure builds as he rubs teasingly over it, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides as I keep control of myself, panting softly. I know I am blushing when his hand pulls down the zipper of my jeans and undoes the button, tugging them down my legs enough to expose my boxers, my erection obviously straining against them as I hear him chuckle.  
  
I want to say something, to know why he is laughing at this point; being laughed at now is not doing anything for my confidence, but I bite my tongue, somehow feeling that I shouldn’t say a word.  
  
It comes as a shock when he starts to fondle my aching cock, and I gasp, grabbing his hips immediately, rubbing them in circles, trying to encourage him into doing more. He seems aware of this as his hands cup my arousal and he leans back, looking over his shoulder at me, studying my face.  
  
“Are you alright, Kakarott?” He asks, his voice soft, his beautiful brown eyes reflecting his desire towards me and causing my lust to rise in response as I nod, still not saying a word. He purrs lowly, continuing to rub my arousal even as he watches me, and I cannot help but gasp again, moaning low in my throat. “You can talk, you know.” When he says this, it feels like a spell has been broken, and I grab his hips tighter, moaning his name immediately.  
  
“Vegeta…” To my disappointment, he releases me, turning around to face me again, capturing my lips in a deep kiss. Even as I kiss back, I am unsure as to why I am letting him take the lead – usually I am the aggressor in the bedroom – but I know I can trust him, and I am enjoying this as it is. He seems to want to be the one in control, and I want to let him do whatever he wants, so I suppose this situation suits us both. My hands thread into his hair and stroke at his scalp as one of his pushes against my chest to keep him up, the other cupping my cheek as we kiss, my body wanting more. We eventually pull back, both of us ending up breathless as I stare up at him quietly. “Vegeta.” It comes out as a whisper, and it sends a shiver through his body, the look on his face making me want to kiss him again, so I do; rubbing my thumb over his lower lip before pressing mine to his.  
  
I feel the urge to roll us both over and start exploring his body on my own, but I can sense that he isn’t finished playing with my body and pull back from his lips to allow him to continue what he started, smiling at him. I can see he appreciates my movement as he returns my smile, crawling off of my stomach and moving lower, causing me to bite my lip in anticipation. His hands tug off my jeans, then yank on the hem of my boxers, my cheeks heating more than before as I sit up a little, watching him lick over my covered erection, hearing a low purr in his throat as his tail waves high behind him. Groaning, I shiver and grip the sheets below me with tight fists, noticing the look of pleasure on his face as he licks harder, then sucks on the damp material. I try not to let my hips buck up into the touch, but can’t help myself, moaning softly in disappointment as he pulls back, purring loudly.  
  
My eyes are narrowed as I move forward, kissing over his neck roughly, pressing my lips hard to his throat, letting him know my appreciation of his actions. His body seems to go slack under my touches and I blink, seeing him lean back a little, cheeks flushed. Greedily, I take in the sight of him on his knees, liking how he is leant back so that I can see all of his muscles stretching, and gaze over his intimate areas. He knows I am looking, and moves to part his legs a little, my face heating more at the gesture. I suppose I have stopped his play now; even though I was enjoying it so much, my movements must have made him think I was getting bored. Sighing softly, I move forward, pushing my jeans off the bed to give us more room and crouch over him, my eyes staring down into his. He closes them and tilts his head back, offering a kiss, so I take it, covering his mouth with my own greedily.  
  
After a few moments of lusty kissing, I pull back, immediately kissing over his neck. He gasps under me as I suckle a particular spot, moaning into my ear as I pull back, staring at the reddened skin, smiling. I only stare a moment, then begin my way down his body, sucking on his collarbone as my hands touch over his soft skin, rubbing his nipples. He moans and arches into the touches, causing me to feel even more determined to please him, putting in all of my efforts. As I stroke his hips, I lick over his chest, his moans and purrs vibrating against my tongue erotically and causing me to get harder, groaning in response.  
  
“K-Kakarott…” He gasps, arching up into my mouth when my hands grope at his thighs, playing with the area around his member without touching it, knowing that it could drive him insane. His hands find my hair and tug on it, making me look up at his needy face as he whimpers and tries to force my head lower to where he really wants it. And after seeing his face like that, I do not wish to deny him, allowing him to push my head down. My face is level with his cock, and instead of licking it like he wants me to, I turn my face and nip his thigh, my left hand moving up to fondle him as my right goes under his body and strokes the curve of his ass. His reaction is almost instantaneous; the gasp for breath and buck of his hips just serving to make me want to tease him more. “A-Aah…more…”  
  
I rub my thumb over the head of his erection and he whimpers softly, his neglected tail moving to tug at my boxers, my head shooting up to look at it in surprise.  
  
“Vegeta?” I turn back to look at his face, a little thrown off by the touch. I hadn’t been expecting it, seeing as his legs are either side of my hips, and his hands are buried in the sheets. I had forgotten he had another limb…  
  
“T-Take them off…” He begs, his face flushed with want as his tail tugs harder on the waistband, managing to drag them down a little. I can feel my face go red as I swallow, moving back from him to pull them down, freeing my erection to the air, shivering at the look he gives me. ’Geta sits up and moves his hand down to curl around my cock and I groan, looking at him with lustful eyes as I shift closer, my hand grasping his member and stroking in slow, teasing motions.  
  
This foreplay has lasted a long time already, but I still haven’t had the chance to prepare his body for my intrusion, my cheeks flaring at the thought and causing him to look a bit quizzical as my hand stops. I look at his face as calmly as I can, and he blushes slightly, hopefully aware of what I am thinking about as he lets go of my cock, gently nudging my hand to let go of his as he moves to go down on me.  
  
I bite my lip as his tongue touches the tip, running over it slowly and causing me to squirm a little. I am not used to this; my ex-wife and I only tried this once with disastrous results that put us both off the idea, and that was years ago. It feels weird to have someone’s face that close to my most intimate part, and I feel nervous even as he sucks along the side, seemingly content. I don’t move an inch as he pays attention to me, choosing to avert my gaze and stare at the ceiling, panting softly under the ministrations. I gasp in shock as I feel his mouth engulf the head, a feeling of panic rising in my body despite the pleasure I am receiving and I shudder.  
  
The last time someone tried to do this, I ended up getting bitten.  
  
He begins to purr around me and I cannot help but moan; the vibration stimulating me easily. I lean forward as much as I can without disturbing him and grasp his tail, stroking and ruffling the fur deftly, gasping when I feel him suck on me harder, making me bite my lip again. After a moment, I let go, unable to take much more as I try to shift back, my hands going into Vegeta’s hair and lightly tugging on it.  
  
I’m almost relieved when his mouth leaves me and he sits up, looking a little confused. I stroke his hair and move to kiss him, feeling his hands grip my shoulders as he kisses back with equal force, my body moving almost instinctively to cover his, pinning him down to the bed lustily. His hands move to tangle into my hair, his body rubbing sinuously against mine and driving me on as I pull back, a sound that reminds me of a growl coming out of my throat. His legs part beneath me and I move down to lift his hips, becoming a little unsure of myself as I look at his entrance.  
  
I push away my nervousness and tell myself that I can do this because I love and want to please him, licking on two of my fingers and pressing them to him. I hear him gasp and lean back a little to gaze at his face as I begin to press one in, watching his expressions carefully. Whimpering, he lifts his hips, causing my finger to probe even deeper into him, my face heating even as he moans and pushes back against me, shocking me. Red, I pull my finger almost out, adding the second one to join it and pushing back in, hearing him moan at my movements.  
  
My confidence grows at his reactions and I begin to thrust my fingers in and out of him, turning my face to plant kisses up his thigh. I feel his hands move, and then his sounds are muffled; signalling that he has covered his mouth. I frown a little, but do not let it deter me from what I was doing, scissoring my fingers inside him carefully and hearing a muffled yowl.  
  
“Vegeta? Are you alright?” I ask, the yowl having made me feel even more nervous than I had before I had started; thinking I have hurt him. When I get no response but a whimper, I pull my fingers out and move to lay over him again, looking into his chocolate gaze. His hands are still clasped over his mouth, and I kiss one gently. “Are you alright?” I persist; not wanting to continue if he is in pain or unsure. Moving his hands from his face, he wraps his arms around my neck, purring softly.  
  
“Yes…” Reassured, I press closer, my erection pressed against his entrance as my mouth moves to press to his lips. His legs grip my hips and I kiss him, my tongue rubbing roughly against his as lust takes me over, my hips pushing forward of their own accord; making him cry out into my mouth. His tightness grips my erection and it feels so good that I cannot help but shove my hips forward harder, his nails digging into my back as I fully sheathe myself, gasping. “K-Kakarott…” Leaning forward again, I kiss him softly; waiting for him to adjust to my erection, despite my desire to thrust again. It only takes a few moments for him to relax, his hands soothing over my back as his hips shift against mine. I groan at the friction and pull my hips back, thrusting my hips forward as gently as I can so as not to hurt him; rewarded by his moans.  
  
“Ve-Vegeta…” I gasp, then bury my face in his neck; licking at the sweaty skin as I thrust my hips again, harder. Nails dig crescent shapes into my shoulders as he pulls me closer and I groan lowly, knowing that he is enjoying himself; he would say so otherwise. I move my body up further over his to gain better leverage and a better view only to see hazy pleasure-filled eyes staring up at me. My cheeks heat from the look on his face and I cannot help but close my eyes and lean down to kiss him. His mouth meets mine enthusiastically and our tongues curl together in a lustful manner, his hands clutching at my back as if he were afraid I was going to stop.  
  
My hips are still moving when I pull away from his lips; the restriction on my movements that kissing caused me driving me insane. I keep the weak pace for a moment as I pant; my eyes trailing over every part of his body and face, assessing his reactions carefully. One of my hands moves from his hip to stroke down his side and he arches up, moaning loudly enough that I feel the whole countryside can hear. The reaction makes me shiver, and I don’t want to control myself anymore; my hips speeding up quickly to pound into him and make him cry out more.  
  
“Ah! Ah!” The mantra that falls from his lips only causes me to get even more aroused than before; leaning down to kiss at his neck and chin as I thrust into his heat. His head is tossing from side to side, and the hands that were once clawing at my back are fisted in the sheets below us both; the display overwhelming me.  
  
“V-V…’Geta…” I gasp, wrapping my arms under his back and leaning back, trying to lift him onto my lap. He gets the idea and lets go; allowing me to move him to where I want him to be before gripping my shoulders and pushing himself down to meet my movements. His sweaty hair dangles in front of his eyes as he whimpers, riding each jerk of my hips with fervour, unaware that the way he is leaning backwards is giving me a thrill. His tail is puffed out behind him, and the noises he makes are proving to me that he is losing control; as if the clenching of his walls around me was not enough of an indication for me to notice. Every clench seems to be tighter than the last, and I find myself hissing through my teeth to try and calm myself down. Looking at his blissful face is almost enough to push me over the edge, but luckily, my determination to please him is stronger than that.  
  
Calming myself, I soothe my hands over his back, pulling him a little closer to me and steadying him at the same time. It is obvious he appreciates the help as he leans forward, kissing me deeply while still shifting his hips, his hands grabbing at my face. Moaning into his mouth, I can’t help but grip his ass and squeeze it in encouragement. He gasps into my mouth and I moan again, pulling away from his lips to kiss his chin, cheeks, neck; anywhere I can reach. He turns his face a little away from mine and pushes down harder onto my lap, my hands aiding his movements easily and pulling him down in a faster manner, his tail coiling my wrist.  
  
My eyes are lidded as I move one of my hands from his ass to the base of his tail, ruffling the fur and licking his ear at the same time. His fingers dig into my back at the assault and I hiss through my teeth as he scratches down my back, finally finding how he had scratched Trunks the other day. I can hear him panting close to my ear, and I lose control; pulling out of him quickly and turning him over onto his hands and knees. He turns to look back at me – possibly to ask me something – and howls as I thrust back into him, burying myself as deep as I can go. I see his arms fail to hold him up and shiver; getting more aroused by the primitive, submissive position he is in, as I know that he is mine, and only mine.  
  
Leaning forward over him, I lick at the back of his neck and feel his tail press against my abdomen, groaning at the soft contact. After stroking his chest and stomach a few times without moving, I kiss his shoulder and move back, leaving his back cold. He whimpers in response and I cannot help but thrust my hips against his; barely moving but making him moan loudly in pleasure from the action.  
  
“K-Kakarott!” My hand grips his tail, and I feel the urge to tug on it and use it to pull his hips back against my own, but my mind is warning me not to do so. I try to ignore the strange desire and pet it gently, rolling my hips hard into him and shuddering at the responsive cry. But he is almost too much for me; his tightness, his heat, his voice…it all combines together to try and make me give in to instinct, but I know I cannot. I let go of his tail and grab his hip, finding it a safer option. “A-Ah… More…” Growling, I can feel myself hastening to his demands; my hips are soon slamming into him at a pace I’ve never thought possible before, and my hands are gripping his hips, pulling him back onto my cock aggressively, almost as if I expect him to escape if I let up. “K-Kaka…rott…”  
  
I move my hand from his hips to slip it between his legs and fondle his erection and he cries out, clenching tightly around me. Shuddering, I continue to thrust and touch him until his head tosses back and he screams my name, his inner walls clamping around my cock and making me cum hard into him.  
  
“ _Vegeta_!” Spent, I feel myself slump onto his back, hearing him pant softly under me and I smile at the noise. His tail twitches against my stomach and I realise I don’t have the time to lay here like this; tiredly getting off of him and lying on my back. After a moment, he relaxes properly; letting himself lie down on his stomach as he turns his face to look at me, his head pillowed by his arms. He is panting heavily, and after a moment’s reflection, I sense that I am too; my grin widening a little in content.  
  
A shy smile graces his lips that seems a little off and I shift closer; resting my hand on his cheek and kissing his lips softly. He presses closer to me and I can’t help but grin mentally. Either he is cold, and not telling me, or he wants to be close to me. At the moment, I don’t mind either way; I just want to be close to him right now too. I move into a sitting position and gently try to pick him up, my eyes widening when he pouts and moves away. I am unsure if he is teasing me or not, so I lean over and attempt it again, but he whines as I gather him into my arms.  
  
“What…again?” My cheeks heat at the complaint as I look down at him; was I bad or something? Sighing to myself, I shake my head.  
  
“I…thought you were cold…” It is his turn to blush now; embarrassment etched into his features as he nods quietly, looking grateful for my insight into his body. Mildly amused, I move off the bed, kicking the sheets over before laying him down and settling in next to him. He moves even closer to me and presses to my chest comfortably, leaving me speechless.  
  
Judging by how tired he is, I suppose we can always talk later.


	8. Chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.)) The ‘put your socks on’ is not mine, it is © GogetaJr, I just borrowed it(with permission) because it’s funny! I also don’t own the Flora Company, or the Pussycat dolls, although that’d be nice… (rubs chin) I don’t own the Resolve Company either, though I do have a box of them in my cupboard, lol.
> 
> Chapter rating: PG-13

I open my eyes hours later to total darkness and blink as the moon shines through the window and casts itself across the sheets of my bed. Finally waking up properly, I register that there is a body pressed closely to mine, closing my eyes and shifting closer to it, enjoying its warmth. Hair tickles my chin and I sigh, opening my eyes again to allow them to adjust to the gloom by aid of the sparse light.  
  
When I can see clearly, I shift back a little in the bed and look down upon my ’Geta snuggled up against my side, a peaceful expression on his beautiful face. Sitting up, I give a little smile and stroke my fingertips through his jet hair gently so I do not wake him. I can’t believe how peaceful I am right now; in this moment, everything else seems trivial and unimportant as long as I have him here with me. My hand comes to rest on his slightly cool cheek and I lean in, pressing my lips to his forehead affectionately before I climb out of the bed, making sure to tuck in the sides to keep him warm.  
  
I’d love to just stay there in bed with him all day, but I can already feel my stomach start to grumble, and am aware that he will be just as hungry as I – if not more – after our passionate tumble. I watch him as I pull on some boxers and socks, finding my chest feel warm at the beautiful and peaceful look on his face. He looks so innocent that I cannot help the way I feel for him…  
  
Wait; he’s only four, and hasn’t been around many people…  
  
My cheeks burn. Does that mean that I…have _deflowered_ him?!   
  
The idea triggers something in my body, and the next thing I know, I am half-hard, my cock tenting my boxers in his direction, as if pointing at him crudely.   
  
Fidgeting, I turn away and make my way towards the door, tearing my gaze from his beauty as I leave the room. As I pad down the stairs, I curse my eager body. Why does something like that have to arouse me so much? Embarrassed, I press my palm to my face, realising how like a perverted old man I am acting, a feeling of shame making itself known as I push down the thought and walk into my kitchen. Standing in the middle of it, I frown. I have no idea what time it is, let alone what sort of food to eat is best for this time. Looking at the clock, I see it is about five in the morning, shrugging to myself as I get out eggs, bacon, sausage, and all the other various items suitable for a fry-up.  
  
Turning on the hob and getting out frying pans seems to take almost no time, and eerily, the next time I feel aware of myself is when the food is finished; dishing it out onto two plates, ready to take upstairs. A strange feeling of unease fills me as I place the food onto a tray, putting two glasses of water along with them. The hair prickles on the back of my neck, and edgily, I move my hand to soothe it back down, not knowing why I feel so alert and nervous. I calm down and pick up the trays, nudging the kitchen door open with my foot as I slip out, practically bounding up the stairs to my bedroom, surprised to find I had not spilt one thing.  
  
Using my foot to nudge open the bedroom door, I smile at the image of ’Geta resting in bed, moving to place the food on the side table. Leaning over him, I stroke his hair and sit next to him on the bed, rubbing his shoulder through the covers as I kiss his forehead again.  
  
At the touch of his skin to mine, my eyes widen.  
  
Ice.  
  
His skin feels like ice under me.  
  
Panicking, I grab his shoulder with both hands, shaking him frantically, my eyes never leaving his face. _No_! He can’t be…!  
  
When he doesn’t respond in the slightest to my motions, I pull the sheets away from him, moving to rub his body with my hands, desperate to feel heat coming from his skin. But there is not even an ember; just ice. As my hands start to go numb from cold, reality slaps me hard in the face.  
  
His body seemed weak the whole time we indulged ourselves. He let me look at and touch anything and everything I had interest in with no complaint, even doing things for me that I had to persuade my wife for months on end to do just once. The heavy panting, the smile he gave that seemed sad but happy at the same time… The cold feel of his body after a while against my warm one…  
  
“H-He…knew…” The peaceful expression on his face is haunting, and I cannot help but stare, a sick feeling rising in my stomach. He must have known that he was getting weaker somehow! He should have told me…why didn’t he say anything?!  
  
Hot tears burn my cheeks and I find my teeth are gritted as I stare at the body, filled with too many emotions to list or count running through me. Why…!   
  
Just as everything starts to go right, something goes wrong!  
  
“ _Why couldn’t you just be normal??_ ” I scream in rage at the lifeless body next to me, shaking it again as I tremble from the sheer force of my anger. “Why couldn’t you stay here for me? Why didn’t you tell me?!” He doesn’t move, and for a moment, I feel the urge to beat his body for how much it has wronged me, barely resisting. I listen for any kind of sound to prove me wrong, but I am rewarded with nothing but my own heavy breathing and I stop, just to see if I am being loud, only to no avail. The deathly silence drives me deeper into my rage as I run from the room, the still corpse still fresh in my mind. I scramble down the stairs, going almost blind from fury as I grab the nearest object, hurling it against the wall.   
  
I hear a crash, but the force of my anger is too strong to make me stop; my arms grabbing everything within their reach, throwing every item as hard as I can in any direction at all, completely mindless. I kick at an object and find myself falling, making no move to stop the action whatsoever. I just don’t care anymore.  
  
I think I fall onto the sofa, beating it with my fists and legs until almost all of my energy is drained and I fall off, landing face-first onto my messy and object littered floor. My shoulders shake as more tears flow, moving my arms to push myself off the floor, cutting my hands on shards of something in the process, getting to my feet. I tug at a piece of what must have been a wine bottle out of my palm, and blood starts to bead along the wound; the red one of the only things I can see through the mass of tears.  
  
If he was alive, I would get scolded for this… Slapped, yelled at and taken care of to try and stop it happening again. But he’s not.  
  
“Vegeta… _Vegeta_ …!!” I sob, sinking to my knees once again, burying my face into my hands, tears streaking down my cheeks undaunted before splashing onto my thighs. The image of his dead body flashes in front of my eyes and I cannot help the horror and sadness in my heart as I cry and yell until my voice is hoarse.  
  
Everything is throbbing painfully; my hands, my eyes, my throat and my hands, but I pay them little attention, only one thing running through my head the whole time I kneel in glass.  
  
… _Why_ …?


	9. Chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ningen or nekojin?
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta’s are my new obsession, so I don’t want any flames about ‘OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!’, because he won’t ever truly be a cat in my fics. I’m not a fan of animal sex.
> 
> Warnings: Uhh…let’s see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
> 
> Disclaimer: Ugh! I can’t believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)  
> I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there’d be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I’d put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don’t be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.)) The ‘put your socks on’ is not mine, it is © GogetaJr, I just borrowed it(with permission) because it’s funny! I also don’t own the Flora Company, or the Pussycat dolls, although that’d be nice… (rubs chin) I don’t own the Resolve Company either, though I do have a box of them in my cupboard, lol. Don’t own ‘Street Fighter’ either, or anything else I will mention!
> 
> Chapter rating: PG-13

It feels like I have been crying for hours when I finally start to calm, not having any more energy left to grieve so violently anymore. The tears were the first to stop, my eyes throbbing and itching from the loss of needed moisture, my cheeks drying stickily from the salt. My throat is burning in agony, and my voice is weak, unable to utter a single sound when I stop yelling, feeling mentally and physically drained by my grief and sorrow at the horror I have just experienced, my mind blank, yet full of pain.  
  
I stare at my hands when eventually I pull them away from my face. Hands that rejected him, hands that held him…hands that loved him… Hands that wanted to protect. Hands that ended up destroying. Covered in blood. Tears. Filled with shards of glass.  
  
Empty.  
  
I will never feel his warm body in my arms again; hear his gentle voice speaking my name or see him smile. Never get hit, yelled at, comforted for the things that I always do wrong.  
  
It’s too late for all of that; he’s dead.  
  
Gone.  
  
I feel numb all over, getting to my feet with great effort. I don’t know what to do. The mess littered all over the floor and walls needs cleaning, but the dead body in my bed upstairs needs taking care of as well, and I have no idea which to deal with first. I can’t do it alone, yet I don’t know who to call; not feeling like I can trust anyone to believe me, especially as there are no other witnesses to this incident now, except myself.  
  
Letting out a shaky breath, I stumble to the kitchen, tidying away the mess I had made from food earlier, throwing out the unused food instead of putting it away, seeing little point in doing so. Without ’Geta, I have nothing to live for. I don’t have a job, my family have all deserted me, and now…my lover is dead, and I could not stop it from happening.  
  
What need do I have for food if I am unneeded, unwanted and useless?  
  
I don’t even know why I am bothering to clean up such a trivial thing, but I cannot think straight and just throw everything into the bin: my knives, pans, chopping board; anything that I left out. There is no use for it now.  
  
Like me.  
  
Leaving the room dazedly, I grab a dustpan and brush, ignoring the pain of glass digging in my palms and knees as I get back onto the floor, brushing everything into the tray mindlessly.  
  
I barely hear the knock at my front door when it happens, looking up from the floor in its direction blankly, before bowing my head and continuing my task, uncaring. It sounds again, louder, and I again ignore it, but this time the door just opens, Bulma walking in to my house without permission, her blue eyes widening in shock at the sight of me and my living room.  
  
At the sight of her, all I can do is smile, though it is weak and there is no feeling behind it.  
  
“K-Kakarott?” She sounds nervous, and I do not miss the tentative step towards me that she takes as I make an effort to get to my feet again, to greet her properly. “Wh-What happened?” Her voice is filled with dulled shock and slight fear as she speaks again, her eyes avoiding my gaze as I move toward her. For every step forward I take, she takes a step back. I frown at her behaviour and stop, some part of me getting very angry with her as I realise it is me she is afraid of. My fist clenches aggressively before I realise I have done it.  
  
“I lost my temper.” My voice is low and toneless as I admit that the mess is my fault, moving to try and look her in the eye, somehow needing her to look at me, but she doesn’t. The nervousness in her face and actions only makes me angrier as she looks away, not seeming to want to look at me at all. “He’s dead.”  
  
Her blazing eyes snap back to me at the statement, and she seems to take in the redness of my eyes and nose, the sticky wetness of my cheeks, then to the blood on my hands, seeming to panic at the sight of it. She thinks I killed him. Instead of my anger, all I feel at this is despair, pain flaring in my chest as I drop the dustpan onto the floor, the brush following not too far behind, showing her my palms; the blood obviously coming from them. Her gaze lifts back to my face, pity in her eyes even as the wariness of me still shows in her face.  
  
“…Kakarott…” My eyes sting at that moment, and I know that if I had anything left, I would have started crying right then. She walks briskly over to me and grasps my wrists lightly, avoiding my earlier knife-wound, confusion and anxiety in her expression as she looks back at me. “What’ve you done to yourself…?” Her voice calms me a little as I look back, feeling guilty, though I didn’t do this on purpose… “Let me sort this out, alright?”  
  
Numbly, I nod, not knowing what to do with myself either way. Somehow I feel like a child; dependent and afraid, in need of its mother for protection and to be told everything will be alright. And Bulma feels like she is fitting that role right now, which both calms and saddens me. I know I am an adult; by the age of twenty-two I must be, especially since I live on my own and have been married, but for right now, I cannot cope, which upsets me. I have dealt with death before, so this should be something I can handle, yet it is not.  
  
I feel myself be led to the table, arms pressing me to sit in a chair as Bulma collects the first aid kit she left earlier, opening it in order to clean my wounds. Meanwhile, I just stare at the floor, and I barely feel it as she removes each piece of glass and cleans my cuts with disinfectant, talking to me all the while. I can barely hear her voice, let alone the words she is saying, and I am sure she knows this, yet she continues her one-sided conversation regardless, tying a knot on top of my hands when the bandages are on.  
  
As she gets up to put the kit away, I move my gaze to my hands and arms; comparing them to both a mummy and one of those strange ‘Street Fighter’ characters. Dead and violent.  
  
Bulma kneels back in front of me, placing a hand on my knee to get my attention, and I look up at her, trying to concentrate on what she is saying, finding it too hard. I shake my head when she stops speaking and she moves closer, touching my face, speaking louder. I stare at her lips as she talks, barely making out her asking something like ‘where is he?’ before I realise what she is asking, flinching away from her hands.  
  
“Upstairs.” Her grip on my knee tightens briefly; obviously a squeeze to try and calm me as she moves away, my eyes following her blankly as she walks through my living room. Feeling panicked, I get to my feet and stumble after her, grabbing her arm and causing her in turn to panic, slapping me hard across the face. At this, I let go, my mouth falling open in shock as my hearing seems to return.  
  
“Oh, God Kakarott, I’m sorry!” She cries out, stepping closer to touch where she slapped before she notices I am standing in glass again, grabbing my arm and dragging me into the hall. She makes me sit on the stairs and checks my feet, but luckily, I have not cut them, hearing her sigh in relief. “I’m going to go upstairs…I think you should stay here.” She says, and I look up at her once more, not sure whether to let her or not. She runs her hand through my dirty, messy hair and sighs, hugging my head to her stomach, my arms moving to grab her back instinctively. “I’ll be back in a moment…” I shake my head and grab her tighter, not wanting to be left on my own, the peaceful expression of Vegeta’s corpse still fresh in my mind, haunting me.  
  
She stays with me until I let go of her warmth, moving my hands to cover my face, feeling close to tears again. Her hand touches my shoulder briefly, then she mounts the stairs, leaving me to myself as she goes into my room, no doubt wanting to look at the dead body of the clone her company made. The thought makes me feel bitter and I turn, going up the stairs myself, expecting somehow to find her hands all over him, measuring his pulse and other things. When I enter, I am surprised to see her tearfully pulling some clothes out of my wardrobe for me, the sheets covering ’Geta completely.  
  
Respectfully, like I should have done instead of yelling at him.  
  
It wasn’t his fault…  
  
Bulma spots me and moves over quickly, closing my bedroom door behind her, obviously thinking that seeing him will upset me further. She uses her sleeve to wipe the tears from her eyes and points to his old room instead, it seeming to be an indication for me to go inside. Somewhat obediently, I enter, sitting on his bed as she puts my clothes next to me, including a change of underwear, her cheeks going red. Her embarrassment barely manages to get my attention, and as I look at her with what I think is an empty expression, I speak.  
  
“…What…” Sadness swims on her face at my seeming indifference, and her hand squeezes my shoulder.  
  
“Get dressed while I clean up, okay?” I don’t feel like dressing, but I consent anyway; a slight bow of my head being enough to answer her as she leaves the room, heading downstairs. How she can remain so calm is beyond me. My chest is throbbing, my heart aching like it has been stabbed, and I would swear on my life that I can feel my blood draining out of it into my insides. Usually this kind of idea would make me feel edgy and uncomfortable, but right now I feel nothing towards it, not even dislike. Standing, I pull on my clothes, thinking of nothing whilst I do so, my eyes skimming the room just to have something to do.   
  
Eventually they stop roaming, and I feel a stab of pain in my chest as I realise I am staring straight at Vegeta’s headband. I move over to it quietly and lift it from the floor, staring at it quite like I hadn’t seen it before in my life, turning it over and touching every part of the soft material with my fingertips, feeling entranced. I don’t even know why I bought this for him in the first place; I wasn’t attracted to him then, and I don’t think I had any sort of catboy fetish either. The idea is a mere mystery to me, and it occurs to me now that the strangeness of the way that I dressed him may have been an indication to my wife what was lurking in my head that I was unaware of. Why would a straight man bathe and dress another in tight revealing clothing without some form of ulterior motive?  
  
Not that Chichi ever offered to help look after him, clean him or tell me anything he should be wearing. She never made an effort toward him in anything, though my original idea when I brought him back was to treat him as if we were our child, as I never really wanted any of my own, and she had never asked for any. If she had tried, none of this would have happened. If she hadn’t left, we could have sat around the television and enjoyed another night of stupid entertainment. But no.  
  
All she ever did for ’Geta was kill him.  
  
Gritting my teeth, I think back to the punch I landed on her face, smirking slightly to myself as I imagine myself doing it again, over and over. Each imaginary hit makes me want to hit her for real, my anger levels rising as I know where she is and that I could easily kill her if I wanted to.  
  
All of this is her fault.  
  
All of it.  
  
Hearing footsteps, I clutch the headband tighter in my hands, not wanting to let go of it. If Bulma tries to make me leave it, I won’t care if she is trying to help me or not anymore, and in my heart, I know I will do something unforgivable. A warm hand touches my shoulder, and I jump, turning to look at her with what I assume is a guilty look, my hands grabbing tight and drawing attention to the object in my hands. After gazing at it a moment, she looks back up at my face, pitying me. Her hands reach forward, and instead of grabbing the one thing I can’t bear to leave now, they curl around my bicep, tugging it. I panic a little, but she gives me a gentle smile, stroking my arm lightly.  
  
“It’s alright…come on Kakarott…”  
  
“G-Go where?” I ask, despite her voice calming my nerves a little. Though I feel safer with her here than I do by myself, I don’t want to let her lead me in to some sort of trap. What if she has called the police? Or a mental hospital? Does she think I killed him? That I’m unstable? I try and search her eyes for the answers, untrusting, but all the ocean blue reflects is sincerity and gentleness, her voice combining with them to make me relax further.  
  
“My house…I think you need to lie down somewhere a little…tidier.” She says, obviously choosing her words carefully.  
  
And it helps.  
  
“Alright…” I give in and allow her to lead me toward the stairs, stiffening as I look at my room again, the door still closed. “But…what about…?” Tugging on my arm a few more times, Bulma realises it is useless to move me without an answer, and looks me straight in the eye as she responds.  
  
“I’ll sort it out, I promise.” She guarantees, squeezing my bicep reassuringly at the same time. When she is like this, I cannot help but trust her because of the way she did it. I never believe those who do not look you in the eye when they promise things, and it is usually because they cannot lie straight out to you if they can see you staring. And Bulma has never lied to me, not once since we were friends.  
  
Trusting her more than ever before, I let her lead me out of the house I have lived in for years, away from the person I love and just lost, into her car and to her house, staying silent the whole time. My heart aches, and I clutch at my chest to try and stop the pain, but it does nothing except make me feel worse. Time passes, and before I know it, I am in a guest bedroom lying on a bed with a glass of water next to me as my friend’s fingers comb through my messy hair, soothing and lulling me into sleep.  
  
The last thing I see out of the corner of my eye is her picking up a phone, not even having time to wonder what it is for before sleepiness takes over and I succumb to it.


End file.
